Belligerent Essence
by ShadowMajin
Summary: AU. Prequel to Battle Stain, 1st of 2. It was war that brought down the Saiyan race. This is how it started.
1. Made of Stone

Hello everyone, ShadowMajin with some big news and a new story for y'all. I know some of you are waiting for Disastrous Space Adventures, but I've had this little story here since I was writing Immortal Enemies. It's also an idea I've messed around with way back when I was writing the Battle Stain Trilogy, though this now makes it an official series.

As much as I love Battle Stain and its subsequent sequels, I admit there were quite a few holes in it, particularly concerning things that happened leading up to the three stories themselves. This story here is to try and clean up some of those holes, along with a second story. Yep, that's right, I've got two prequels coming.

While it would seem to be better to just make one prequel and be done with it, this is more of an homage to my favorite author ever, Roger Zelazny. He was known for his Amber Series, the original and following series covering five books each. So once I firmly had it in mind to do a prequel, I thought why stop there and make it my own five-story series. So be ready for a second prequel some time after this is finished.

And on another note, this is my first non-Gohan story. Weird to say he's been the only character I've written 20+ stories about. But with that said, I've enjoyed going into Bardock. One of these days I need to do a story on with that guy. He's just too much fun not to write about.

Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ.

Disclaimer 2: Nor do I own the song titles of Evanescence.

* * *

They were lined up in columns from one end of the room to the other. Standing tall, straight, at attention, each warrior looked straight ahead. Masses of spiky, black hair pointed in every which direction save for the bald men.

Polished armor covered every man and woman there, gleaming in the light falling from the high ceiling. Shoulder guards extended out from above naked or spandex-covered arms, the arms pressed rigidly into their sides. The same could be said of their hands, either gloved or bare, but all were balled into fists. Regardless of style though, each one of them had a furry, brown tail wrapped securely around their waists, due to either decorum or just plain common sense, take your pick.

Each column of armored warriors wore the same color of armor, be it blinding white or gleaming black; the same could be said of bright golden or darkened brown shoulder guards. It was quite a spectacle from the men situated on a stage in front of them.

One of those men stood out of the gathered men on stage. Every single one of them also had similar armor covering their bodies, the only difference between them and the rest of the warriors here were the bright red capes attached to their guards and hanging limply behind them. One stood out in front of them all, a man that was tall, heavily-muscled, and a small bald head that seemed to contradict his large body mass. He was the highest-ranked Saiyan military general here, General Nappa.

With a smirk surrounded by a dark goatee, the Saiyan was giving a speech about the greatness of the Saiyan race, the honor it was to serve their incredible military might, blah, blah, blah. Bardock had begun blocking the blowhard out the moment he had begun talking. These military rallies were always a waste of time to him, but as was protocol with being part of the military, he had to dress up in one of these fancy-smancy armors and stand at attention for several hours. Considering nearly every able-bodied Saiyan was required to join the military, damn near everyone on the planet had to show up at some point or another throughout the year.

Bardock suppressed a grunt of annoyance as he subtly shifted his weight from one leg to another. When was this thing going to finish? He swore these things got longer every time he came to one. If he was in an exaggerative mood, he would've claimed these things were the biggest reason why he stayed out on deep space missions. However, he was never in one of those moods to be honest. Being a drama queen was a desperate cry for attention, a disgraceful action for a battle-hardened Saiyan warrior such as himself. Plus that behavior was for the women like his daughter-in-law, the crazy banshee.

Letting his dark eyes move from the stage in front of him, he began roaming about the oversized auditorium, looking for something that would give him some entertainment. The first thing he found was his oldest son Raditz. If there was ever a prototypical Saiyan ever made, that was Raditz. Arrogant, blood-thirsty, and highly temperamental, the only thing that exceeded those character traits was his hair. Damn was that hair long. If Raditz hadn't looked like him, Bardock would have accused his late wife of having been with a fence-jumper. He was pretty damn sure there wasn't a long-haired Saiyan on his side of the family and he hadn't really cared to know her side either. Then again, she hadn't cared for her family either, so it definitely made meeting the parents a non-issue.

But he was his son, so he afforded the young man the care and generosity a father would—meaning he didn't care what the young man did as long as it didn't wake Bardock up from his nap. Raditz had always had a strong desire to move up in society, so he spent most of his time away from the family plot. Bardock honestly didn't mind that at all. If that was what his son wanted, then that was just fine with him. Personally, he had never had the urge to rise up in society. Seemed a waste of time to him.

And that was when his eyes switch from one side of the room to the other, landing his attention on his other son. Kakarot was a pretty close clone to him, save his more gentler features and the lack of a permanent cross-shaped scar on his cheek. The same wild, spiky hair, the same lean body, hell, they practically shared the same pajamas. Kakarot had a similar attitude of societal advancement as he had, something that frustrated his eldest all the time.

However, for the oddest reason his youngest preferred to be called by a childhood name he had picked up somewhere at some point. Again, Bardock didn't care what his spawn did, which included what they called themselves. They could've called themselves Bastard and he wouldn't have a problem. However, he had called him by his birth name since the moment he was born and he didn't really care to change that now.

Seeing how Kakarot seemed to follow in his footsteps though, it wasn't much a surprise to him that the young man had gotten married, settled down on a plot adjacent to his property, and made his own family. Already he was working on his second son, like Bardock had before him. Or was the second one already here? Meh, he'd find out the next time he stopped over at his house. However, unlike him, Kakarot seemed to have a thing for naming his kids after variations of his nickname for some reason or other.

"A Saiyan fights for honor!" General Nappa's voice suddenly declared loudly, causing Bardock to return his attention there. "A Saiyan fights for the rush of conquest that we forever thirst for!" Oh great, he was beginning to recognize this part. Nappa was starting to wind down his dumb little speech. About friggin' time. "There is not a race that stands as tall, as proud as us and never will there ever be. By serving, you honor not only yourselves, but the entire Saiyan race! Without honor, you might as well not even exist. There would be no purpose to your existence. But all of you, you have a purpose. You fight for your people, the greatest race of warriors the universe as ever seen! Be proud! And never forget who you serve!"

In front of the stage, a row of Saiyans lifted up long, golden horns and began trumpeting out some grand song that was customary for these ceremonies. It was supposed to mark the end of a speech, something of which Bardock was grateful for. All around him, Saiyans began to applaud the speech as they were supposed to, but he kept his hands at his sides. He wasn't green anymore, nor did he see any point to awarding some guy for having a set of lungs that could talk non-stop.

Fortunately he didn't have to stand at attention for very long. The Saiyans behind him began to leave the room, the sound of their boots clashing with the ground growing louder and louder. When he felt the person behind him pull away, he turned around and followed the crowd out.

Because of this, he never saw Nappa turn his grinning mug to one of the men on stage, a man with a stock of tall, spiky hair. "Hey King Vegeta, that was a pretty good speech."

The man tilted his head to the general, his goatee-surrounded mouth twitching. "Yes, that was a good waste of time."

* * *

"Father!" a voice called out from behind him.

This didn't put Bardock in a good mood. Was it too much to ask that he be able to get out of this military-issued armor and back into his usual one? It seemed so since one of his spawn wanted his attention. Coming to a stop, Bardock turned his head to look back, finding Raditz closing in on him. "What do you want?" he grunted.

"Aren't you staying?" his eldest spawn questioned, giving him a serious look. "Command is going to be issuing service assignments shortly."

"Someone will let me know where I'm assigned," Bardock shrugged, turning forward to begin moving again. "They always do."

"You know it is part of your duty to stay," Raditz retorted, following after him.

"If they wanted me to stay, they would have put an armed guard at every entrance," Bardock shot back. "Better yet, they would've thrown me in the brig the first time I skipped out. Seeing as they haven't done that in all the years I've served, I'm pretty sure they don't care if I stay here or go home."

"That isn't the attitude for advancement," his eldest said, frustration growing in his voice. Bardock frowned at that. It shouldn't have come to a surprise to Raditz that he would be leaving, not to mention his apathy towards advancement.

"Like I care," he said, pushing past a group of Saiyans. "You may care about promotions and all, but it won't amount to shit when we're in a fight. A general can die just as easily as a private; the only difference is one of them has more decorations than a whore in the Red Light."

"You're just as infuriating as usual," Raditz grumbled.

Bardock paused long enough to give the Saiyan an annoyed look. "Were you expecting something else?"

"Bardock!" another voice called, further eating away at his already thin patience. Once again looking for the source of the voice, he found a very familiar face.

The guy was taller than him, bulkier too. He seemed more at ease in his fancy blue Military armor, though that was pretty much all Bardock had ever seen him wear. Toma had been a guy he had fought along side with for many years, usually being selected on the same crews. Definitely a reliable guy he didn't mind watching his back.

"Toma, you're looking good," Bardock greeted, nodding his head at his fellow comrade. In turn, Toma raised a hand up, Bardock immediately reciprocating. Grasping each other around their forearms, they gave a solid shake and released.

"You look just as uncomfortable as ever," Toma returned the greeting, a friendly grin on his face. "You trying to sneak your way out of here already?"

"I'm not sneaking around. I'm just walking right through the front door. Unless you've got something important to say, I'd rather be out of here."

The Saiyan shook his head amusedly, his neatly cropped spiky hair keeping in place. "Don't worry, I'll make it short. I just found out the two of us have been assigned a space mission."

Bardock tilted his head towards Raditz, giving him a meaningful look. "There, happy I stuck around?" he asked mockingly. This just caused the young man to scowl at him. Looking back to Toma, he asked "So what's this mission?"

"Nothing too exciting," Toma replied indifferently. "We're just supposed to check out one of the resource asteroids. Should be a piece of cake really."

This time it was Bardock's turn to scowl. "So they're sending us there for what? Babysitting duty? What a waste of friggin' time."

Toma coughed before he shrugged, replying with "Someone's gotta do it. We just drew the short straw this time." Raising a hand, he clasped the wild-haired Saiyan's shoulder guard. "We have a few days before they send us off, so they'll tell us more about the mission. In the meantime, you want to go for a drink? I could definitely go for a stiff one."

"I'll meet ya at the usual spot," Bardock replied. "First I'm gonna get out of this stupid piece of armor." Moving away, Toma's arm fell off his shoulder, the Saiyan giving him a wide smirk. Turning his back to him, Bardock waved his hand to him as he walked away. "If they miss me, tell them I had something better to do."

"You got it," was the reply.

However, Bardock didn't get too far—again—as Raditz was pulling up next to him. With a scowl, he glanced over to his spawn and said "This is why I don't stay around after these speeches."

"Perhaps if you actually represented yourself better, you wouldn't have been given such a mission," Raditz retorted.

"Raditz, if I wanted your advice, I'd ask for it."

"Says the dried up old man."

"Says the dried up old man that can still kick your ass."

Opposing looks appeared on the Saiyan's faces, an annoyed scowl on Raditz's and a satisfied smirk on Bardock's. "I will beat you, Old Man," the shaggy-haired Saiyan threatened.

"One day you might," Bardock acknowledged. "But until that day comes, I will continue to beat your ass black and blue. The same goes for your brother."

"I know. I know."


	2. Your Star

I forgot to do some advertising in the previous chapter for Team Dragon Star. I'm in the midst of helping TDS write a spy-thriller with the group, something I'm quite excited about. I'm taking my lessons learned from Framed and putting them to good use! I highly suggest you take a look at it, it's yet another AU story on this AU-kick I'm on.

* * *

The elderly gentleman sat at his end of the horseshoe table, his cold blue eyes scanning through the familiar faces in the room. These people had been in this room since long before he had entered this elite circle. One could say he was the new guy despite the fact he was older than most of them, if not all of them. However, he had managed to retain one of the twenty seats here in the last election and that was all that mattered to him.

Not all of the seats were filled mind you. For example, the seats for the seventeenth, eighteenth, and nineteenth chairs were vacant, not that he cared. The men who had sat there had always gotten on his nerves. He supposed it wasn't their faults that they were so much more primitive than his brilliant mind, but then, he had a very low threshold for absurdity.

Then again, there weren't many men that could hold a candle to the genius of Gero.

However, a more glaring absentee was the seat for the Fifth Chair. He was usually a more punctual man, rarely did he ever miss a meeting, but there would be extenuating circumstances involved if he did.

A gavel knocked on the wooden table, causing his eyes to dart to its source. At the center of the table was a red-haired man, looking at all of assembled representatives with his one black eye, his other eye hidden by an eye patch. "The Council of Twenty is now in session," he proclaimed, setting down the gavel on its side.

Gero instinctively studied the man, finding the usual pose of the First Chair, Jeden Red. He was a guarded man to be sure, never revealing more than he had to at every given time. The only thing he ever revealed on a constant basis was his lack of statue. Whether he suffered from a Napoleon Complex, Gero didn't know, but the tailored-made suit he wore at all times seemed to suggest otherwise.

Immediately, a dark-skinned bald man to his right stood up, revealing himself to be very tall. In a soft voice, he spoke "Fellow Chairs, we have many matters to attend to for this meeting." Pausing, the man Gero knew as the Second Chair—and right hand man of the First Chair—Swart Black, looked at a sheet of paper in front of him and said "First on the docket is the progress with the people of Namek. Third Chair Blue, I believe that falls in your jurisdiction."

If Gero had been a lesser man, he would have ignored the following report. However, he was not a man to toss away an opportunity at valuable information. Due to his chair rank, he would be the last to be speaking on these progress reports. The Second Chair was sitting back down, waiting patiently for the Third Chair to begin with his report.

Standing up from the seat next to Black's white dress shirted self was a tall, blue-eyed, blond-haired man. In some circle he could be considered handsome, the elderly man supposed. From what he knew of him, the Third Chair Terz Blue was an anal man, always proper, always unyielding to the slightest imperfection. It was a quality Gero could admire had the man not annoyed him with his arrogance.

"The campaign on Namek is going well," Blue reported, his perfectly buttoned, perfectly arranged uniform shirt keeping still on his torso. "We have successfully procured some land on one of their many islands to establish a military base. The Namekians were very gracious."

"And how much is that going to cost us?" a rather mocking voice spoke up. At this, Gero turned his attention to one of the two present females of the Council, the Seventh Chair Purpură Violet. She was leaning forward in her chair, her elbows resting on the table as her leather-gloved hands cupped around her chin and cheeks. Her arms hid most of her green, sleeveless shirt, though it did nothing to hide her rather amble assets. She had a coy expression on her face, her blue eyes twinkling with mirth. Her look caused Blue to glare at her in irritation.

"I don't know what you speak of," Blue replied haughtily.

A small smirk appeared on the woman's face, her eyes closing as she shook her head mockingly, her short violet hair ruffling. "You know perfectly well what I mean. You can't take a walk in a city park without running up a bill. So how much did it cost us just to get this base deal secured?"

Blue sneered at this. "As a matter of fact, nothing. The Namekians refused payment."

"Ah ha! So you did offer to pay them!"

"That's quite enough," First Chair Red interrupted before the two could launch the meeting into a squabble of petty insults. Flicking his one eye to Blue, he inquired "What exactly do we have to provide them for this base?"

"They requested that they have access to the base. They felt it would be beneficial if the base served under joint-ownership. If we supplied the building materials, they would assist in construction."

"That is all?" a think-accented voice spoke up. Gero didn't even need to look for the source of that voice. Anyone could have recognized the Fourth Chair Styri White. Where he came from to have that sort of accent, Gero had no idea, but he wasn't fond of it. With a layer of hair gel holding his back-combed white hair in place, the larger elderly man looked to Blue with a disapproving expression on his face. "This arrangement could make problem for us."

"It's a small sacrifice for us in order to build the base," Blue defended. "Without it, the Namekians won't allow us to build and we need this base for further space exploration."

"There are easier solutions," Gero suggested, having the room's attention focused on him.

"Let me guess, we should conquer them like the Martians, hmm?" Blue shot back angrily. "That's your answer for everything."

"But it worked, didn't it?" Gero countered. "What was your idea when Earth's population was beginning to overwhelm the planet's resources? If I recall correctly, you were appointing a super-committee to begin considering if we needed a committee to solve the problem."

Laughter erupted from the Seventh Chair, causing Blue to give them both a dirty look. There were a few more amused looks amongst the others, but they held their mirth in much better. However, one of those amused Councilmen managed to collect himself to speak his own opinion.

"Force is not required at this time," the monotone voice of Jericho Sedici , the Sixteenth Chair, spoke. If there was anyone who embodied the phrase "Gentle Giant," that was Jericho. Though Gero saw him as a Neanderthal, the man had proven to have a quick mind behind his primitive features and patient blue eyes. With his spiky red-haired Mohawk bobbing, he continued "As of now the Namekians pose no threat to us, unlike the Martians and the Plutonians after them. Though I am uncomfortable with the terms, I see no reason we cannot go along with it for now. If a threat is exposed, we can deal with them swiftly."

"Is there possibility that Namekians will use base as leverage against us?" White asked curiously.

"That possibility always exists," Jericho answered. "A wise man once said that you should tread carefully, but carry a big stick. We should be mindful of these words."

A silence fell over the Council until the First Chair spoke. "Are there any other points to be made?" When none spoke up, he continued "We will follow the course of action initiated by the Third Chair Blue. We will evaluate when we have a larger contingency on the planet."

Almost like clockwork, Second Chair Black was on his feet, the opposite action occurring with Blue. "The second issue before the Council concerns the skirmishes we have encountered in the Northern part of the galaxy. As last reported, our scouting ships are being ambushed and overtaken. The responsible parties are as of now unknown."

"I believe the solution for this one is rather obvious," Gero jumped in. "The scouting ships are being attacked because they are few in number. We need to send a ship division not only to protect ourselves, but to handle any threat that is posed in those northern recesses."

"I agree," the Sixteenth Chair chimed in. "It would be unwise to continue risking men and military resources just to probe the incidents."

"It's probably nothing more than pirates," Blue scoffed. "We've handled the like before. This should be no different."

"And if it isn't?" Violet countered. "How can you be sure its pirates? Thanks to the Twentieth Chair, there's not a pirate crew in the region that can take down one of our ships, much less several scouts."

"And what makes you think it is anything else?" a rather haughty voice responded. Gero's eyes took on annoyance as he viewed the Ninth Chair Stummel Dark. If there was anyone that was more irksome than the Third Chair, it was the pudgy man who did his best to dress like Blue, but his unappealing features and conceited demeanor prevented him from capturing the Third Chair's appeal. Even his full-lip moustache added to his unpleasantness.

That was how Gero viewed most of these people. Unpleasant.

* * *

Gero left the meeting feeling more disgruntled than he had entered. Long gone were the days where he could supply a course of action and the Council would follow through. He had been the one to order the Martian operation and that had worked to perfection. They had achieved a reprieve in their overpopulation crisis once they had access to the Red Planet. None of the other Councilmen had the ambition to make such a decision.

Of course, the Plutonians had declared war on them shortly after the Mars Campaign and they had to respond just as strongly. Again, he had also been the one to make the call to defend their territory and eventually add Pluto to their budding domain. The Plutonian technology had even given them the opportunity to colonize desolate planets as well. That had all been made possible because of his decision-making and no one else.

But these spineless bureaucrats felt they needed a part in this conquest and promptly slowed his progress to a crawl. It was maddening to say the least. The worst offenders had been the Seventeenth and Nineteenth Chairs, but fortunately they had resigned from their posts after some…persuasion.

That wasn't to say they enjoyed their retirements for long.

What more, if there was anyone that deserved the recognition for their successes, it was him. Of course, he was gracious enough to share the praise with his fellow councilmen, but what had they ever contributed? He had made the decisions. He had developed the technology for their soldiers and spacecrafts, the powerful Blitz Rifles and the even more destructive Blitz Cannon. And he was the only one who could incorporate the various technologies of their conquered foes to benefit their peoples. He was truly alone on the Council.

Well…not completely alone.

"You have a barbed tongue Twentieth Chair."

Ah yes, the Council wasn't quite over was it? Coming to a stop, Gero turned to face Blue and Dark, both looking at him sinisterly. Correction, Dark was _trying_ to look sinister, but was failing pitifully. Blue on the other hand was keeping his emotions in check. It was always like this once the First Chair Red called the sessions; Blue would confront him in the halls to continue what ever dispute they had in the chambers. Sometimes Dark would accompany him, other times not. At first Gero had been humored by these confrontations, but after some time they had grown dull. You could only entertain half-wits and no-wits for so long before it lost its appeal.

"Don't you have some pants you need to be ironing?" Gero shot back. "I wouldn't want your uniform to become wrinkled."

Blue scowled at him, his hands shaking from his resistance to smooth out his blue pants. "I'll have you know that I have never ironed my clothes. That's what Stummel is for."

"My apologies then. I had assumed the Ninth Chair was incapable of tying his own shoes much less doing someone else's laundry."

Dark immediately went red in anger, his pudgy legs trembling from below his knee-length shorts. Even his red tie was shaking. "I would watch my words if I were you, Twentieth Chair," he said heatedly. "You never know when an accident may happen."

"I never have accidents Ninth Chair," Gero said flippantly. "Now is there something you want or do you wish to only waste my time? I have other business to attend to and I rather not postpone it unless necessary."

"What exactly is this business?" Blue inquired nosily. "I've noticed you like saying that. Is it something that I should know of?"

"Not at all. It is private business, which means it is not the business of the Council. Besides, there are more important things you should worry about—for instance, the void created by the Fifth Chair. It does seem peculiar for a man like him to opt for free time."

Blue frowned at this, Dark looking to him first before copying his expression. "You do have a valid point," he admitted reluctantly. "It is very unlike Copper to up and leave."

"Very strange," Gero agreed before turning his back to them and walking off. "I shall allow you to investigate that to your heart's content."

"Oh? Why are you leaving so soon?" Dark pipped up insolently. Gero could only imagine the sneer on the man's face, mostly because he refused to pay him any mind whatsoever. "We have only just begun talking."

"I make it a point to never have a battle of wits with unarmed opponents," Gero said over his shoulder, reaching a branching corridor and turning into it. "I suggest you find more proper opponents gentlemen."

It seemed the two Chairs got his subtle hints to leave him alone as they didn't follow him. Most likely they were making sniveling comments about him to make their fragile egos feel better. Let them whimper all the like, he had more important things to do, just like he had told them earlier.

There would be another day for him to snap their brittle dignities again.


	3. Imaginary

The chirps of insects filled the night air, its starry sky twinkling above. Bardock found himself lying on his back, his hands resting behind his head as he gazed at the stars. It was one of his favorite activities to do when he was outside. He had a nice little meadow not too far from his home that he could go out into and lie down on. The long, wavy grass made for an excellent mattress. Most of the meadow was surrounded by trees, hiding this little spot of heaven from the outside world.

Of course, Bardock wasn't alone here.

"How long are you going to be gone?" his grandson asked, brimming with energy. While the kid could stay in one spot with the best of them, he had a chatterbox for a mouth. He probably could talk about nonsense for a whole week and not repeat himself, or so Bardock thought. Naturally, Kakarot did nothing to curtail this behavior.

"Don't know," he answered the kid, who was lying not too far away from him, torn between copying his own pose and facing the older warrior. Kakarot laid in a similar position to him, only on the opposite side of the boy. He seemed content in leaving Bardock to the boy's attention. "It'll be awhile."

That didn't seem to satisfy the runt. "But you never go to space! Why now?" he protested. Clearly he was a bit too fond of him. Bardock knew he should've made Kakarot live further away from him.

"Because that's what the military wants and what it wants, it gets," Bardock said bluntly. "If you want to change it, become a general or something."

"Okay!" the boy nearly shouted with joy. "I'll be a general and never make you go to space!"

Kakarot burst out laughing. "You sure about that Gohan? You might just drive yourself crazy with your grandpa hanging around."

"He's not bad. You just have to get to know him!" Ah crap, that boy was about to ruin his rep. Sometimes he was just too nice for his own good.

"You keep that to yourself, boy," Bardock growled. "I'm not what you call a people's person."

"Oh well. Their loss."

Bardock resisted a sigh. In the old days, he probably would have slugged the boy for being so cheerful. In fact, he had done that numerous times to Kakarot, though at times he wondered if that had caused some brain damage to his youngest. After all, he found that harpy of a wife and thought she was the greatest thing since raw meat. Perhaps his old age was getting to him, making his temperament less explosive.

Or maybe Gohan just had a strange ability to make people soft.

Now, that wasn't him just making crazed theories up. For some reason, the most harden people he had ever met would just humor the boy. No reprimands, no insults, nothing. It was as if they wanted to be his friend and he was happy to oblige. Even Raditz seemed to be more agreeable around the boy. It was strange to say the least.

And on top of that now, Kakarot had a second child already. What was his name again? Go-something or another. He only knew this because once Kakarot had found out about his new assignment, he had wanted him to come over for dinner. Not one to turn down a free meal, Bardock had accepted and once again became reacquainted with his son's family. That was when he had encountered the second Kakarot spawn, another carbon copy of Kakarot and, to an extent, him.

"So where exactly are they sending you?" Kakarot inquired, causing Gohan to look at him curiously.

"The Onius Satellite," Bardock answered. "It's one of those asteroids those engineer guys got a hold of and converted to a mineral factory. And of course the military had to put a presence on it because that's just what they do. It's not a Saiyan property without the Saiyan military close by."

"That's not too far from that one planet, Namek," Kakarot commented. "I hear those backwater people, the Earthlings, have been trying to take over that planet."

"Not surprising. Those slug people are just deluding themselves about their intent." Absently, Bardock reached out and plucked a blade of grass out of the ground, sticking it into his mouth. Seemed he found a stiff one too cause it was sticking pretty far out of his mouth instead of flopping over his face. Naturally, Gohan began searching for his own blade of grass to copy him. "I'm sure the military is keeping an eye on them."

"Do you think they're sending you to Onius to beef up the defenses there? Once the Earthlings take over Namek, it won't take long before they set their sights on us."

Kakarot had a point, Bardock mused. So he wasn't getting babysitting duty like Toma and he had thought. "I suppose that's possible. We'll find out if those humans have the balls to take on a brigade of Saiyans. They won't find us so easy to fight against like those other races they ran into."

"Who are the humans?" Gohan spoke up, looking between the two men. It seemed he had found his own blade of grass and stuck it in his mouth since it was whipping around his face as he looked from adult to adult.

"Just a bunch of schoolyard bullies is all," Bardock replied, moving a hand over to rest it on the boy's head. Gohan immediately went still when he did this, allowing him to ruffle his hair before moving his hand back to its original place. "I wouldn't worry about them if I were you."

"Okay!"

"So when do you go?" Kakarot spoke again.

"Beats me. They'll send someone to tell me eventually. They always do."

"Well, since this is a space mission, I'm assuming you'll be going to the Satellite Hub."

"Of course. That's where all the ships on the Eastern side of the planet are launched from." That wasn't an over-exaggeration either. Though it was probably idiocy to describe a round planet as having an affirmed left or right side, in the interest of maintaining some semblance of order for their trans-planet transportation services the planet had labeled one part of the planet the Western side and the other the Eastern side. There was probably a Northern and Southern side too, but Bardock only really needed to know about the Eastern part so that was all he really cared to know. And if you took his previous words at face value, that meant there were major shipping hubs in the other areas. There were smaller hubs here and there, but the important ships—i.e. the ones belonging to the military—were launched from the larger ones.

"And you'll be back soon, right?" Gohan piped up, turning his childish eyes onto him. Bardock could see the boy begging him to say that would happen. Most likely he'd be gone for some indeterminable amount of time, which was the truth of the matter. This is what Bardock wanted to tell the boy, his puppy dog eyes be damned.

"Yeah, yeah, I'll be back before you know it," he relented. The boy's face lit up with joy, his little body humming with a burst of youthful exuberance.

What could he say, the boy was making him soft.

* * *

Limric's Pub was as dirty and unwelcoming as they come. Located in one of the seedier areas of East Vegeta City, it gave off a vibe that said that if you don't belong, don't bother coming in. Naturally Bardock felt right at home in such an environment so it became his first and last stop for the night.

Sitting with his back against the bar, a bottle of liquor in hand, Bardock scowled out to the rest of the bar's occupants. It wasn't because he was mad or drunk or anything, that was just the way he looked. Got a problem with it? No? Yeah, that's what he thought.

For the most part, the inside of the bar was just like any other on Vegeta. The only difference between this one and the others was that the walls and floor were constantly dirty, like someone felt it was a good idea to paint grime onto the walls. The dim lighting fortunately did a good job of hiding the decorator's efforts, though what the décor looked like really didn't matter to men who were on their way to getting drunk.

"Barkeep!" a woman shouted, an empty glass in one hand and her other gripping onto the side of the bar for balance. "Get me another round! And don't give me any crap about cutting me off! I'll cut your puny dingaling off first!" Ah yes, couldn't forget the women either. Hmm, she kinda reminded him of his dead wife. Well, if she was just as much of a spitfire here as in bed, then tonight could end pretty—

"Quit hogging the bottle," Raditz grunted at him, snatching the liquor bottle out of Bardock's hand and taking a generous swig from it. From one annoying family member to the next seemed to be on the agenda tonight for him. Apparently Raditz had thought Toma's invitation for drinks included him and had joined him shortly after he had arrived. That had been a couple hours ago and Toma hadn't shown up, so the company wasn't too unwelcomed. Still, Raditz had a bad habit of not chipping in on the tab. One of these days Bardock was gonna have to teach him proper drinking etiquette.

"So how's that annoying nephew of mine?" Raditz asked as he let the alcoholic burn settle in his stomach.

"Just as annoying as you remember him," Bardock grunted. "A regular ball of energy that's bouncing off the walls."

"He's starting to get the better of you, old man?" Raditz mocked, earning him a solid punch to the gut from his annoyed father. Gasping, the long-haired Saiyan bent over forward on his stool, nearly dropping the liquor bottle in the process.

Fortunately, Bardock had a lot of practice at saving semi-full bottles and snatched it out of Raditz's hand, taking his own swing from it. He could feel the burn from it build at the back of his mouth and flow down his throat, warming up his belly. Mmmm, good stuff. "You're one to talk. You never go to your brother's house. You afraid the brat will make you look slower than you already are?"

A scowl appeared on Raditz's face, not too unlike the one on Bardock's face. Wonder where he got that one from. "I don't go to Kakarot's house because he has a banshee of a woman there. Why he doesn't lock her up somewhere is beyond me."

"You still sulking over that lump she gave you? Man up, ya pussy."

"You wouldn't be saying that if you were the one hit in the head with a frying pan!"

Bardock smirked at the younger Saiyan. "I wouldn't have been hit in the first place." Taking another swig, he then shoved the bottle into Raditz's hand and said "Now drink your shame away."

Raditz just continued glaring before doing as told. It seemed he was feeling spiteful because he chugged what was left of the bottle, slamming its bottom on the bar. "Barkeep! Another one!" he shouted similar to the Saiyan woman from earlier. Immediately, a newly opened bottle was set down next to the empty one, the empty one promptly disappearing from the bar and being completely forgotten by the two Saiyans.

Letting his eyes wander, Bardock soon caught sight of the woman from earlier, standing in a mixed group of Saiyan men and women. Taking a good look at her, her ass and breasts took turns being the focus of his attention. She wasn't bad, in his opinion, not bad at all.

Then one of the men wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her to him with a cheeky grin. Bardock scowled at that. Who the hell was that jackass? Couldn't he tell she was already taken by yours truly? He was just gonna have to show him who was the better Saiyan. When he got off his stool, he'd take it and give him a second hole to use when he took a dump.

Straightening his posture to stand up, his shoulders and back sagged back to its former position. Meh, he'd kick the guy's ass later, he was in too comfortable a position to move at the moment. With a glance of his eye, he quickly found the new bottle in Raditz's hand. Moving a hand, he snatched the bottle from him and took a swig, feeling the familiar burn making its way down his throat again.

"Toma hasn't shown up," Raditz grunted, indifferent to losing the bottle. "Is he always late?"

"He'll show when he shows," Bardock replied, taking another swig. "And if he doesn't show, he doesn't show. No skin off our backs."

What Raditz's feelings towards that answer were, Bardock didn't know since his elder son decided to change the subject for some reason. "Any idea which satellite they're sending you to?" he asked, taking the bottle and drinking from it.

"Onius."

Raditz's eyes narrowed. "That's pretty far away for someone of your rank."

Bardock's eyes flickered over to his son, eyeing him blandly. "And my rank has to do with what?"

"They usually send rookies to those distant outposts, not veteran Captains on the verge of becoming Majors." Raditz turned his head to smirk at him. "Thought I wouldn't find out about that, did you?"

Bardock looked away, letting his eyes roam once more. "I never hid my rank from you," he stated. "It was there for you to find if you felt like looking it up. Why you care so much about it makes no sense to me."

"For all your bluster of not caring for promotion and your disinterested attitude, you still make sure to climb the military ladder," Raditz tsked. "Your reputation may be tarnished from it."

"That's assuming anyone cares." Taking his turn at the bottle, Bardock continued "I got to where I am by doing what I wanted and without kissing some piss ant's ass. How much work and maneuvering have you done since you enlisted? More than I ever have. But what has it gotten you? Sergeant? Sergeant Major?" At this his son glared at him. "Don't give me that look. You're the one that chose to run around like a chicken with its head cut off. You play those pointless games while I just do my job. At the end of the day, I can hold my head with dignity and know I got to where I am my way."

The younger Saiyan stared at him for several moments before turning away, taking a large swig from the liquor bottle. "You haven't spoken to me like that since I was a boy."

"That's because I haven't had to until now. Now quit being a little girl and order me something stronger. I know infants that can handle stronger stuff than you."

A chuckle came from the long-haired Saiyan. "Fine, but only because you asked so nicely."

* * *

I must give credit where credit is due. AnonymousVoid came up with the name for Onius for me. I needed a name for the satellite and was running a blank, so I asked him to give me a name. He didn't disappoint.


	4. Sweet Sacrifice

The hulking contraption revved with life, its components creating a whining sound as it generated the necessary power to operate. It was a monstrous behemoth that resembled a giant cigar; a large, grey, cigar with metal plating all over it with small little light bulbs flashing with a burning orange-yellow color. It was on a stand with two large metal clamps holding it onto it, one on the rear end and the other towards the head. The front was caved in with ball-sized holes at even intervals inside.

Gero watched the machine charge itself, waiting for it to become operational. So far everything was showing promise. It had taken much longer than he had anticipated, but so far he felt confident that this latest test-run would provide better results than his last few trials.

Then as if to mock him, the machine began making sputtering sounds, dying a slow death until it shut off completely. "Piece of junk," Gero seethed as he punched the control panel, the panel protesting the abuse. This was the fourth time—the fourth time!—this had happened. Why wasn't it working? His design was perfect; the power source was being utilized to its maximum; so what was the problem?

"Send this back to the lab," Gero ordered, turning away from the machine as he walked away. Several soldiers that had been watching the experiment immediately went up to the contraption and began making preparations for transportation.

Gero was about at his wit's end with this thing. He was on the verge of tearing it apart and searching for what ever was blocking his progress. It just didn't make any sense. He had made the Blitz Rifles with half the hassle this thing was giving him and that had been at the beginning of his research. The Blitz Cannons that were now required on every battleship they had had been even easier than the rifles and that weapon made this worthless piece of junk look like a peashooter. So why he couldn't build a weapon that was right in between the two was baffling to him.

Begrudgingly, he began to feel as if he needed to go back through the blueprints to find any unlikely errors that could have been made. Having a Blitz Cannon that was small enough to fit onto a tank would make land battles so much easier for Earth's military. Heck, if he could accomplish this, he could go on to create smaller weapons that packed the same power of the cannon, only in rifle form. Maybe even as a bazooka.

Though powerful and efficient, the Blitz Rifles did not carry the power as the Blitz Cannon did, which was pretty obvious. The Cannon had the optimum size for as much power as it packed, but anything smaller proved troublesome. It had been an annoyance in Gero's side for the last few years and he was nearly sick of it.

Striding through the halls and corridors, his mind stewing over his latest failure, Gero took notice of a small grouping of his fellow councilmen. The First, Second, Sixth, and Eighth Chairs were having a debate amongst themselves. Curious, Gero drew closer to them.

"This isn't like Copper," the Sixth Chair was saying, clearly agitated. Samuel Silver was usually such a composed man, despite his rather untamed brown hair. His usual stern face was laced with worry as his purple trench coat flapped about from his excess movement. "The Fifth Chair hasn't missed a council meeting for as long as he's been on the council and as of now he has missed two consecutive meetings. There must be some foul play afoot."

The First Chair nodded his head in understanding. "Your concern is noted, but I wouldn't suspect something bad has happened to the Fifth Chair. Just this morning I received a cable from him explaining his absence."

"You have?" the Eight Chair exclaimed. Of the members of the council, this one was the weirdest, and that was saying something. The Chairman was a Tiger wearing a pilot goggles on his head. How he got elected, Gero didn't know, but he half-suspected voter fraud. Though it was possible he could have threaten many people into voting for him—after all he was a tiger, his green pilot jacket making him look more hulking than he was. "Why hasn't he sent us any word?"

Red eyed the Tiger sternly. "The Fifth Chair is not obligated to inform lower chairs of his absence. He is, however, obligated to inform _me_ of his absence."

"Why is he gone then?" Silver countered. "Surely you can tell us that much."

"Personal business," Black replied. "One of his family members had fallen ill, so he left immediately to be by their side. The family member has died just recently and he is staying for grieving purposes."

Silver frowned. "I wasn't aware he had any family he was particularly close with. He always seemed to dislike them."

Gero cocked an eyebrow. That was news to him. So Copper wasn't the family man he was led to believe. Perhaps he really needed to do further research into his fellow councilmen other than keeping track of their political campaigns. Who would have ever thought politicians would utter untrue claims?

"That is what his cable said," Red confirmed firmly. "If you wish to see it, the Second Chair can show you. I have other matters to deal with. Good day gentlemen."

And it seemed the conversation was over. Pressing on, Gero walked past the four, looking calm despite his eavesdropping. Neither of the men paid him much mind as they went off to their own devices. It wasn't long after that that Gero reached his lab, punching in the necessary codes, and entering. Computer equipment lined the walls of the enormous room he found himself in. Sealed containers of marked chemicals were held in one part of the room while machines of various purposes were placed at various places through out. Moving to a sector that was fairly wide open, save for the document-covered table and blackboard, Gero quickly found the blueprint for his failed Blitz weapon and began looking over it for any flaws that could possibly be there.

"How did the testing go?" a mechanized voice asked.

"Another failure," Gero growled out in frustration, not even bothering turning his head. "I am coming to the conclusion that the design is flawed in some form or fashion."

"That is unfortunate." Out of the corner of his eye, a figure approached the table, coming to a stop next to it and standing stiffly. Flicking his blue eyes over, he found the familiar sight of a pale yellow vest and black shirt, the clothes belonging to his lab assistant. He was a portly man, pale in face, but sharp and analytical as his blue eyes shown. Gero found the man's wardrobe to be impeccable, especially since he modeled his clothes selection after him. "Is the design not utilizing the power source correctly?"

"Possible," Gero relented, his eyes returning to the blueprint, specifically looking for the power source and its surrounding mechanics, ones that were supposed to channel the energy created and direct it to the barrel of the weapon. "It is possible we will have to strip the weapon down and find if any of the machinery is damaged in any way."

"I will see to that." The man bowed his head, his yellow, pointed cap pointing towards him for a moment before his head moved back. "Do you require anything, Dr. Gero?"

"Not at this time, Unit #19." Gero paused for a moment. "Wait, what are the reports of the other experiments?"

Red lights danced across Unit #19's eyes before he answered "The only progress recorded concerns the organic-weapon experiments."

Gero's head shot up, his mind shelving the Blitz Weapon schematics for the moment. He hadn't been expecting new results this early. Perhaps this could cheer up his day. Turning head to look at his assistant, he responded "Really? What are the results?"

"Of the 30 remaining samples, 29 have rejected the latest injection of biological material. The remaining sample is currently showing indications of further growth and may exceed expectations."

"Only one?" Gero questioned, feeling disappointment once more. "Today has been littered with setbacks," he groused. "Continue monitoring the remaining sample. Inform me if the sample reaches the furthest developmental point reached in the other experiments."

"Understood."

As Unit #19 moved off into another part of the lab, Gero focused back on the blueprints. Eyeing some of the calculations, he made a note to have them run through once more in case a number had been recorded incorrectly or wrongly calculated—impossibilities mind you, but it was always best to leave no stone unturned.

However, he was interrupted yet again when a nearby computer came to life, emitting a high-pitched alarm. Looking up, Gero found the screen running through a data-transfer. Half-curious, half-annoyed, the elderly man moved to the computer for a better look. Hmm, from first glance, he was getting a report on genomes. Trivial stuff, one that made his irritation with the day grow greater.

It was then that something flashed onto the screen that stopped Gero cold. "Hold on," he spoke aloud to no one in particular, one of his hands moving to a keyboard and his fingers dancing across the keys. The data appearing on the screen came to a stop, quickly followed by the screen focusing on a specific set on data. It only took a moment for Gero to realize exactly what he was looking at.

"That's impossible," he spoke incredulously. Reading and rereading it, what ever doubt Gero had had evaporated in the blink of an eye. He knew that genome sequence. It was a sequence associated with a deadly plague on Earth. Fatal in all by a handful of cases. Quickly, Gero searched the report for a location for this plague. Since the report was sent to him, logically the person who had sent him this would state who they were and where they were at somewhere at the beginning. Finding the top of the report, he found the sender's name and his location, that being nowhere on Earth.

Gero almost collapsed to the floor out of sheer relief. Earth had a bad history with plagues and he did not want to have one break out on his watch. The chaos and havoc it would cause would be overwhelming, even for such a technologically advanced era as the one he lived in. At least it was occurring on some off-world planet. All they had to do was keep any of the soldiers stationed there from returning and a crisis would be advert—

Wait a second. Why did he feel as if he were missing something here? Studiously, Gero began to read the report, looking for something that seemed to escape him. It was when he was reaching the genome diagram that he found exactly what he was looking for.

"Interesting," he spoke, the gears in his head moving swiftly. Though expected, it would seem he had a turn of luck, at least concerning one of his problems. He'd have to be quick about it though. More information needed to be gathered and analyzed to make sure he had a solid case. If there was one thing he hated—more than anything—it was to be made a fool. Gero was no one's fool.

"Unit #19," he called out. Immediately, his rotund assistant was at his side, looking at him expectantly. "I need you to send a message to Agent 8. I need him to collect more samples of this DNA code. Have all the sequences analyzed and displayed. I want the results brought to me by tomorrow night at the latest."

Unit #19 bowed stiffly as he said "Understood." Straightening up, he took off to accomplish his task, pleasing the doctor.

Oh yes, this day was starting to turn around. Glancing to the schematics, he immediately didn't want to return to them. They would only serve to spoil what ever feeling he had due to the sudden fortune he had.

In that case, it was time to turn his attention to more intriguing projects. The weapon designs could wait until he had time to cool off and could look at it objectively. Right now he needed something creative to do and his current hobby would do just fine. Leaving the blueprint-covered table, Gero headed off to another part of the lab, specifically one of the walls. It was here he came upon several metal doors, each one with large padlocks sealing them shut. Nearby was a stand, a set of large iron keys held together by an iron ring laying on it. Picking up the keys, Gero shuffled through them until he found a specific key he was looking for.

Moving to one of the doors, Gero inserted the key into the padlock and twisted it, the lock coming undone. Pulling off the padlock, the doctor opened the door and stepped through it, closing the door behind him. Surveying the cement-made room, he found a few computer monitors standing against the walls at various points. A couple were on while the others weren't. A work bench sat between two of the computer monitors, various operating instruments placed in a specific order on it, all of them sterilized and ready to be used at a moment's notice.

And in the center of the room was a table with a man strapped to it. One of his arms was missing, a tourniquet strapped tightly to the limb to stop the flow of blood. A leg had been removed as well, however, a metal humanoid leg and foot had been attached to the stump. It was motionless for the moment, but Gero knew once he reestablished the circuit between the leg and brain, it would function just like a normal leg and foot would. He knew because he had already experimented with that. He was a doctor _and_ a mechanic just so you know, and he liked turning off _all_ of his equipment and work when he was finished with it.

Moving to a monitor, Gero checked the man's vitals, all of them lower than average, but stable enough to keep the man alive. Promising. Turning, the doctor walked across the blood-stained floor to his work bench, finding a box next to the operating instruments. Opening the box, he found a metal hand and arm, custom-made to the exact measures from his patient's real arm.

A low moan came from the man suddenly, causing Gero to look at him. "Now, now, be quiet," he chided the man. Without even looking, the doctor moved a hand to a drawer and opened it, reaching in and retrieving a syringe. Turning his attention to the syringe, he found it already filled with his preferred serum: pancuronium bromide. A bit redundant considering the straps, but he always found a twitching body just a tad bit annoying when he was reconnecting body parts.

Placing the syringe on a trey, Gero gathered every operating instrument he needed for his upcoming surgery and carried the trey over to the table. Next to the table was a small stand, the perfect size to place the tray on, which he did. Picking up a bottle of rubbing alcohol and a cotton ball, he opened the bottle and covered the opening with the ball. Tilting the bottle onto its side and allowing the alcohol to come into contact with the cotton, he then tilted it back and placed the bottle down. Gently, he rubbed the wetted cotton on the stump of what remained of his arm. Didn't want him to get infected after all. Ridding himself of the cotton ball, he then picked up the syringe, pierced the man's arm right in the middle of the cleansed area, and injected the chemical.

With that done, Gero placed down the syringe and went back to the workbench, retrieving the mechanical arm. "Now then Fifth Chair Copper, I hope you won't be discomforted over this operation. It's rather important and I wouldn't want you to die before I finished."

* * *

Fun Fact: for the curious-minded of you readers, pancuronium bromide is the second chemical used in lethal injections for the death penalty. It's purpose is to paralyze the injectee after the first chemical knocks them out and before the third one kills them. The more you know, right?


	5. All That I'm Living For

_The meadow was nearly empty, the only living thing there being Bardock. With his arms crossed over his chest, he stood there waiting, waiting for someone he knew was coming. Though in his opinion he had been waiting longer than he thought he should have. Either his patience was shorter than usual or the person he was waiting for wasn't nearly as fast as he thought._

_The thought of just leaving here was very tempting to be honest. This wasn't his job he should be doing, it was his son's. Though he couldn't fault Kakarot for being away due to military reasons, this was still his mess and it was his responsibility to clean it up, or at the very least not make it in the first place. He was pretty sure he had pounded that lesson into the boy's head when he was younger, but sometimes there was a lapse at points._

_His ears caught a faint crashing sound then, alerting him to the approach of the person he was waiting for. The sound grew louder as it came towards him, though not necessarily at him. This was more of a chance meeting here, though it wasn't very hard to know this person was coming this way._

_Bursting out from the trees and into the meadow was a young boy, his hair long and shaggy. There were trails of tears on his cheeks, signaling he had been crying. The boy kept running across the field, completely oblivious to Bardock's existence here. Well, it was time to get this over with._

_"Boy, what do you think you're doing?"_

_Immediately, the boy came to a stop, turning to look at him as a smile grew on his face. What he had to smile about, Bardock didn't know, but then the brat always did seem happy to see him for some unknown reason. "Nothing much Grandpa Bardock."_

_The chipper tone, the happy face despite the misery that had been on it previously, Bardock could read the boy like a book, though it didn't take much effort to do. "Why is it I don't believe you, Gohan?"_

_The smile disappeared from the boy's face, though there was some mirth twinkling in his eyes. "Maybe it's because you're old."_

_Bardock instantly scowled. He wasn't _that_ old. He was a Saiyan Warrior, fit for combat and creating destruction. Just because he had a grandson already didn't mean he was ready for a retirement home. And no, he wasn't sensitive about his age. Nuh uh, not at all. "Watch your tongue, Boy," he snapped. "One of these days it'll get you in trouble."_

_Gohan immediately killed his amusement, gulping as he began to look nervous. That was better. Turning, Bardock began to walk towards the nearest tree line, the one that led to his house. "Now then, tell me why you've run away from home again."_

_The sound of crumpling grass and feet started behind him, indicating that the boy was running after him, trying to catch up. "My dad went off to train without me again. He told me a month ago that he would teach me a new technique, but every time I try to get him too, he 'has something important to do.'"_

_Could Kakarot be any vaguer? Bardock had never sugarcoated his words like that. If he was called upon by the military, he told then as much and left. None of this "important stuff" or whatever. Still, the brat hadn't really shown much patience either. "You know that your father is busy, especially with the military keeping an eye on the sudden emergence of these Earthling people. Don't be so hard on the man."_

_Apparently the boy didn't like to hear that as he rushed in front of him, looking up at him as if the world were about to tear itself apart. "But he promised! He should be training me now, now with some trees in the mountains!"_

_So this wasn't because of some military preparation? Had he misheard about those preparations the military command had been discussing in case the Earthlings turned their sights onto them? Hmm, he might need to check up on this. Later though, he had a fuming little boy to calm down. "And what about your mother? She should have to worry where her son is?"_

_Immediately, Gohan's face dropped. That was the whole reason why he was here to begin with. The boy's mother had been hysterical when she called him, crying about how her little boy had run away and how he was becoming some sort of delinquent. Half of Bardock wanted to tell the woman to man up and quit crying, but then he would have had a broken eardrum from her screaming through the communication…thingie. Yes, that was coming from experience and no, he wasn't going to share. Ever. So after telling her he would catch the boy, Bardock had headed to that meadow and waited. For some reason Gohan always ran by that field when he ran away from home. Bardock had no vegetaly clue why._

_"No…she shouldn't," the boy admitted, a fresh round of tears welling up around his eyes._

_Ugh, not more tears. Bardock hated tears. Time to change the subject then. The boy had already shown remorse for his actions so he didn't need to make a physical example out of him…unlike a couple of brats he could name. Sighing, Bardock wondered what he could say. He wasn't the most comforting person around, so he wasn't going to bend down and give the boy a hug. Besides, Gohan was reaching the age that he needed to begin the basics of combat, if he didn't already know them. He knew Kakarot had been starting him out on them, so that wasn't a concern, though the man's lack of follow-through with training was troubling. Hmm, training. That's what started this whole mess right? Perhaps he could make this a lesson for more than one person._

_"If you want training though, I guess I'll have to teach you something Kakarot should have the right to. However, due to present circumstances, it looks like it'll have to be me."_

_The boy's head jerked up, hope sparkling in his eyes. "You're gonna teach me something?"_

_Oh, he was gonna teach the boy something. The very thought of it made him smirk. Nodding his head, he confirmed "That's right, Boy. Now watch carefully—I'm only gonna do this once."_

_A serious expression covered Gohan's face as he nodded his head. His eyes focused on Bardock like a hawk, wanting to catch any and every last detail of what he was about to do. Falling into a familiar stance, Bardock raised his right hand out, the palm facing upward. Steeling himself, he began gathering his ki, channeling it into his hand just the way he had been taught so long ago. Blue energy began to envelop his hand then, forming a swirling ball as it grew stronger and stronger. Glancing to the young boy, Bardock then asked "You see this energy, Gohan?"_

_The boy nodded his head as he answered "Yes, I can."_

_"This, my boy, is an attack that's been passed down our family for generations. My father taught me this move when I was a boy, just like I taught your father when he was one…and now I teach it to you."_

_The story caused Gohan's eyes to widen. Well, at least that's what Bardock thought it was. It could have been from the power he was emitting at the moment. He wasn't too sure how many strong people the boy had been exposed to. But that didn't matter now. "Listen up now," he barked, startling the boy. "You won't be leaving this property until you've mastered this move, got it? You'll be staying with me and won't see your home until then."_

_Upon seeing Gohan nod his head hesitantly from that, Bardock then smirked. "Good. Now let's see what this puppy can do."_

* * *

A sudden tremor caused Bardock to wake up. Stupid spacecraft, waking him up for being a hunk of junk. And he was enjoying himself too.

The dream he had had been an odd one. He wasn't one to dream about his past, but for some reason his subconscious wanted to remind him of the day he had taught his grandson the family's secret technique. The boy had proven to be a quick study too. It had taken him two weeks to get the attack down pat, faster than either Raditz or Kakarot had managed. He would have been lying to say he wasn't proud of that accomplishment.

Of course, Kakarot hadn't been too thrilled upon learning about those lessons. He had come barging into his house like a raging bull and accusing him of…something or another—the older Saiyan hadn't really cared what his son had been saying at the moment. Instead, Bardock had simply knocked his youngest's breath out with a blow to the stomach and told him to shut up. Considering Kakarot spent the next several moments trying to collect his breath, Bardock called that a success.

Apparently Kakarot was mad that Bardock had taught his son their family technique and went on a rant about how he should have been the one to teach him. Bardock promptly told him if he wanted to teach the boy anything, he needed to get his head out of those mountains he seemed to like and train the boy—he couldn't help it if Gohan ran to him for training due to an absent father. Though Bardock really didn't know where Kakarot had gone—the mountain training had been a one time thing a few years previous, but it was something that had haunted his younger son ever since—his point had been made and Kakarot didn't press the issue further. In fact, Gohan hadn't run away from home ever since.

Boy did he just love it when his lessons were understood.

As he phased back into the real world though, Bardock kept his eyes shut. He wasn't quite ready to have his eyes burned by the lights glaring down on him from the ceiling. Instead he let his ears listen to his surroundings, catching bits and pieces of conversation from the rest of the room's occupants. Taking that as a sign nothing was amiss, he slowly began to open his eyes.

Bardock found himself lying on a wooden crate, one low enough for his legs to hang off the edge and his feet to rest on the ground without discomfort. His arms were raised, his hands clasped behind his head in a makeshift pillow, just the way he had been when he went to sleep.

"Hey, Sleeping Beauty's finally awake," a gruff voice said sarcastically. Tilting his head to his right and towards the source of the voice, Bardock found a large, rotund Saiyan with a bowl-cut for hair. He was presently stuffing what looked like a cooked animal leg into his mouth and tearing off the meat, his shoulder-strapped armor expanding and contracting as he breathed. He wasn't too sure what the leg was, but knowing the Saiyan like he did, it could have been anything.

"And you must be the beast that's supposed to eat me alive," Bardock countered. "Or is that supposed to be someone else?"

The Saiyan smirked at him as he chewed his meat. Swallowing, he then said "Thought you'd never wake up, especially after that rock hit the ship. You make the dead look full of life when you sleep."

"It's how I keep my looks," Bardock grunted as he leaned up, dropping his arms to his side. "Do I even want to know what you're eating Shugesh?"

"Probably not, though I'm pretty sure it belonged to a horse at one point. You should ask Borgos where he found it."

Staring straight a head, Bardock caught sight of Borgos sitting across from Shugesh, his own animal leg in his hand as he tore into it. Borgos was a tall son of a bitch, nearly as wide as Shugesh as his shoulder-strapped armor indicated, and nearly bald aside from the spiky hair growing around the sides of his head. Bardock had always assumed some animal he was trying to eat had done a number on his head, considering the claw-like scars on the Saiyan's head. It was more likely due to a receding hairline, but Bardock preferred his own theory. "Maybe some other time. Borgos doesn't like to talk when he eats."

The silent, darker-complected Saiyan eyed him, a small smile gracing his face before he took another bite out of his leg. To be honest, Borgos rarely talked. He was one of those strong, but silent types, though Bardock begged to differ on the strong part. They had had their spars before and more times than not, a certain someone always came out ahead. But enough gloating, Borgos was a solid fighter and one he had the pleasure to work with, unlike other more talkative annoyances.

"I see you boys are getting along just fine," a feminine voice spoke up, causing Bardock to tilt his head away from Borgos. Approaching the three was the second female Saiyan he really had any contact with. A lithe woman, Fasha sauntered over to the three, appearing green due to the Scouter screen covering Bardock's left eye. Sitting next to Borgos and across from Bardock, Fasha crossed her arms over her one shoulder-strapped armor, an uncovered leg crossing over one dressed in some yellow pants…thing. It was some fashion thing that was popular with the Saiyan women lately, one that Bardock had no understanding of nor would he ever.

"Fasha! You're getting scrawny!" Shugesh exclaimed. "Put some meat on those bones of yours. Borgos might mistake you for his next meal."

"I'll eat when I'm hungry," Fasha replied lazily. "Or maybe you can cut off some of your own fat and give it to me. You've got plenty to spare."

"Ha! Get your own. Unlike you, I like keeping warm when I'm in space. You and the blockhead next to me will freeze before I ever do and I ain't gonna make myself any less uncomfortable for your sake."

"So I see," Fasha deadpanned as her violet eyes looked to the floor, eyeing a small pile of bones. "You know, we're gonna be docking soon. You better clean it up before that mess goes flying all over the place. I rather not have a bone sticking out of my neck, thank you very much."

Bardock looked to the floor at the bones, spotting a thin one he took a liking to. Leaning over, he snatched it up and stuck one side into his mouth, biting his teeth down on it. Hmm, tasted fishy. It seemed Shugesh and Borgos didn't stop at just one animal since they left.

Fasha stared at him with a disproving look. "Do you have any idea where that's been?"

"Nope, no idea," Bardock retorted, the bone shifting up and down as he spoke. "And I ain't gonna ask either. I don't really care to know."

Fasha just continued to stare at him, which was slightly annoying. "So where's Toma? Anyone seen him lately."

"Pansy got sick," Shugesh grunted, tossing the bone of his leg to the floor with the rest of them. "Don't know what he came down with, but the medics wouldn't let him go. I think he was just calling in sick to get out of this crap job we've got."

Suddenly, the intercom went off. _"Attention all personnel, the shuttle has arrived at our destination. We will be docking with the satellite soon. It is advised that everyone remain seated during the docking phase."_

"It's about freaking time," Bardock grumbled. "I was getting bored just sitting here."

"Like you should be complaining, you slept the whole way," Shugesh shot back. "Now help me clean this mess."

"Not my mess. If you want someone to clean it up, get Fasha. That's her job, ain't it?"

"The day I clean up after you morons is the day I look like Shugesh's mother," Fasha said. "And I'm never going to have kids as ugly as she did."

Meanwhile, as the three bantered with each other, Borgos quietly picked up the pile of bones and left to toss them. Despite his size, neither of the three noticed his disappearance or his return. Once he sat down, the other three turned their attention to a cleaner floor, causing the three Saiyans to blink their eyes bewilderedly then turn their attention to the quiet Saiyan.

"I swear, Borgos got some ninja blood," Shugesh spoke. "I've never seen a man as big as him move so quietly."

"Just because you didn't notice Borgos moving around, like you always do, doesn't mean he's part ninja," Bardock retorted. "It just means you're as blind as a mole."

"You didn't see him move either!"

"But I'm not the one making ridiculous claims of ninjas, now aren't I?"

Suddenly, the ship jolted, causing everyone in the ship to jerk around as they grabbed onto something to steady themselves. _"Base Onius, this is Cruiser 859. We are commencing the docking process,"_ the loudspeakers announced.

"You think they would have said that before we docked," Borgos said softly.

A smirk appeared on Bardock's face. A rare jibe by the quiet one amongst them. What else was going to happen on this trip? Oh well, it was about time they got here. Any more time spent on this little transport ship and he would have gone nuts.

Now to get acquainted with his new home.

* * *

Yep, it's the return of that lovely scene from Breaking Grace, though obviously from Bardock's point of view. There are a couple differences between the scenes, though ultimately Bardock's POV of it is the more accurate of the two. This is one of the problems in the original trilogy that I wanted to fix, mostly due to the fact that in Breaking Grace, Gohan blames Goku's absence on the approach of the humans for war whereas Blue Angels mentions that Bardock had encountered the human's in the first battle between the two races. A bit of a plothole, and one I'm fixing here by blaming it on Gohan's memories being corrupted by war. After all, you can ask two people questions about one event and get two different versions of it.


	6. Erase This

The room was dark except from the glow of the monitor; a monitor that covered most of the wall and displayed a diagram of what was labeled "Gene Sequences." Gero stood next to the screen, looking at his fellow council members and allowed their meager brains to attempt to piece together what he was showing them.

With a laser pointer, he pointed to a specific gene sequence, a red dot circling around the sequence in time with the rotations of his wrist. "As you know, gene sequences are essentially bits and pieces of genetic data, each sequence programmed with a specific function that must be carried out."

Faintly, Gero heard one of the council members mutter something about going through science class again, though who it was remained unknown due to the darkness hiding the identities of the other members. Not allowing the remark bother him, he began circling another sequence diagram with the laser pointer. "The set you see here belongs to our very own genetic sequence. The data from this specific sequence gives instructions to the immune system on how to eliminate various bacteria and other illnesses." Moving the pointer to a sequence under it, he then said "And this sequence is common to a strain of plague found on Earth, one that specifically destroys the immune system and eventually kills the host." Pausing to stare down the shrouded council members, he stressed "I don't believe I need to tell you how dangerous this is."

The screen changed, showing a completely different set of sequences, though the plague sequence appeared at the top. Pointing to the second sequence, he continued "And the very same sequence appears in this genetic sequence. Upon finding it, I requested more samples of the source, along with the surrounding people and plant life. Every sample that showed positive signs of the plague belonged to the same people of that area. Gentlemen, I believe we are encountering the beginnings of an outbreak of plague."

Hushed whispers began to echo about the room, concern laced in the councilmen's voices. Then the unmistakable voice of the 1st Chair Red spoke "Where is the location of this plague?"

"It is not on Earth, if that is what you are worried about," Gero assured him, earning some sighs of relief from the others. "But the strains do come from the same planet. The sequences all belong to the people of Namek."

"We have men there," Blue suddenly exclaimed. "Are you saying we are exposing them to this plague? Or is it possible that this strain is isolated only to the Namekian race?"

"I have already given instructions for our people to be tested for the strain and all results have proven negative. But to say the strain will only stay with the Namekians, I am not certain. Precautions are already being implemented as we speak. Though I know I have overstepped my authority, I believed it was best to take precautionary steps before any harmful effects began to take place."

"You did the right thing," Red commended. "But as of now we need a long-term strategy for this pending crisis. I would rather we avoid anything catastrophic if we can help it."

"How prevalent is this plague?" Black spoke up. "How many of the Namekians have you tested shown signs of this illness?"

"One hundred percent," Gero answered bluntly. "Every single one of them had the sequence. I've personally ran the tests multiple times to be sure."

"And how many have you tested?" Blue asked. "If you only tested 3, then the tests would be misleading."

"Of course we had a larger sample size than that," Gero snorted. "Of the seven larger villages, we have tested every citizen in two of them. Every single one of them had the strain."

"Isn't it possible that the strain would be only prevalent in just those two regions and not the others?" Jericho inquired.

"Not likely. The distance between the villages we tested was equal to the circumference of Earth."

"Then what is to be done?"

"The only safe way to contain a disease is to quarantine everyone in a specific area. No one goes in or out until the outbreak has quelled. It is the only I know how to fight a disease," Gero answered.

"So you want to lock every Namekian in their respective villages? I doubt they would go for that," Blue retorted.

"No, that would be a waste of resources and highly infeasible. We don't have the manpower on the planet to seal every single village shut," Jericho spoke. "It would be easier to round everyone up in one area and keep them there."

Blue said incredulously "You mean like a concentration camp?"

"If that is the way you look at it."

"The Sixteenth Chair is correct," Gero added. "It is the only course of action we have that can stunt any outbreak. If we are to do this, we need to do it as soon as possible."

"Are our troops equipped for such an endeavor?" the Second Chair spoke. From his tone, Gero could pick up the interest in his voice. It seemed the man was considering his idea. Promising.

"I believe that would be a question for the Third Chair." At this Gero turned his sharp blue eyes to the blond man. "He knows the situation with our forces on Namek."

Blue stayed quiet for a moment before clearing his throat. "We have the capacity to put in place a quarantine, but on the scale that is being suggested, it would require more men and resources."

"How long could we last with our current troop levels?" Black asked.

"Not long. A few days maybe, a week at the longest."

It was silent for several moments. Then Red said "Begin construction of a camp to house all Namekians. If any of them ask, inform them that we have found signs of a possible virulent disease and for the protection of everyone on the planet we will be enforcing a quarantine of all who possess signs of this disease."

"Won't someone ask for a number?" Violet spoke up. "I know if someone was building some camp on my front yard, I'd want to know all of the details."

"If they ask, we'll inform them that we have estimates of up to ten percent of the population. No one will inform them of any figure higher than that."

"I believe that would be most prudent," Jericho intoned. "If we tell them the whole truth, it is very likely to cause a panic and no amount of force we have would be able to quell a planet-wide hysteria. No force in the universe would be able to do that."

As a few of the other chairs voiced their agreement, Red turned his attention directly to Blue. "Third Chair, give the order to begin construction. We'll marshal fresh troops and resources to reinforce the forces already on-planet. Remember, we need this to occur as quietly as possible."

* * *

"It was fortunate you discover that strain, Twentieth Chair."

Gero stopped in his tracks and turned around, his eyes falling onto the giant form of the Sixteenth Chair. "It was," he agreed gruffly.

A weak smile appeared on the man's face. "I only wish I understood all that you spoke of. It would seem I am quite out of touch with my basic science classes."

Gero just grunted. He wasn't in the mood for chit-chat at the moment. The council had ruled in his favor in the matter concerning the Namekian planet. He didn't need this Neanderthal to congratulate him for it. All of this was for the sake of making more progress with that nearly empty planet.

"So I understand you are a scientist. What sort of work do you specialize in?"

"Is there something you want?" the elderly man said bluntly. "I do not have all day to socialize."

"You're not a patient man, are you?"

"I only have patience for people with fully intact brains. Unfortunately, there aren't many of those sorts of people," Gero retorted.

"Then I apologize for troubling you," Jericho replied, seeming to ignore the blunt insult hurled his way. "However, if you do find any spare time, I would like to go more in depth with this plague. The more one knows, the better he can prepare himself."

Gero merely grunted before leaving the giant man behind him. There were things he needed to finish, people that needed to be contacted before Red could assemble the forces they needed for Namek, not to mention Blue sending word to begin building the quarantine camps. Gero wanted to make sure nothing could go wrong with this and he needed people he could trust in specific roles for this endeavor to go without a hitch. Fortunately, a few of those necessary steps had already been taken.

* * *

Earth men were odd creatures. They had this weird habit of building things where ever they went, constantly complaining about missing materials or a lack of time while doing so. They also had this thing for wearing these bulky clothes that covered them from head to toe. It was like they were constantly wearing armor, but for what reason was only known to them. In comparison, most of his people wore simple pants, vests, robes and the occasional neck collar. Their green skin and body patterns were shown proudly to all.

However, despite the normal activities of the humans, something new was happening today. A small section of a wall had been built, standing erect and daunting while continued construction worked at its ends to make it longer. In front of the wall was a small platform on which a handful of humans were standing on, calling for their attention.

One of those men happened to be a delegate from Earth, a man by the name of…Ki-ash? Ch-ash? Something like that. Human's had very odd names that came off difficult to normal tongues. The delegate was a short man who carried himself haughtily, as if his time were better spent elsewhere. He also seemed to have a monocle perched over one of his eyes. And right now, he had a megaphone hovering in front of his face and was speaking into it.

"Attention! Attention all Namekians!" the delegate proclaimed to a growing crowd of Namekians. "I have just received a dispatch from my people on Earth. We are in a grave situation."

Piccolo's eyes widened. Though he was only a lad, he could tell from the Human's tone that something was wrong. Looking to the man next to him, he grabbed the man's pant leg and gave it a tug. "What does he mean, brother?" he asked.

The man looked down and gave him a wry smile. "We'll be finding out soon, little one," he replied earnestly. This caused Piccolo to frown. He hated that name, had told his brother countless times that he didn't want to be called that, yet Kami insisted on calling him by that name. It was as if he was trying to annoy him by saying that name. Couldn't he see he was almost a man now?

As Piccolo sulked, Kami looked back up at the man, his face taking on a serious expression. Considering the greenness of his skin was beginning to darken and his healthy pink body patches were beginning to fade into a dull yellow, it made him seem much older than he really was.

"According to the dispatch, scientists on Earth have identified a deadly strain of an infectious disease running rampant on the planet," the man explained. "In the interest of preventing a spread of this disease, we are issuing a planet-wide quarantine. I repeat, we are issuing a planet-wide quarantine to contain this disease. It is asked that you fully cooperate with us. We want this to be a very smooth, very easy process."

One of the Nameks called out "What disease do you speak of? Is it the Glubark Virus? Or the Danuke Disease?"

Piccolo looked intently at the delegate. If those diseases were running amuck, then they were in very dangerous times.

The man merely shook his head. "It is neither of those strains, I'm afraid. The disease is known as Plague on Earth and we have found traces of it throughout the Namekian population."

A loud, panicked cry erupted from the crowd. Instinctively, Piccolo latched onto Kami's leg once more, fear beginning to well up in him. A moment later, he felt a hand soothingly, comfortingly even, began rubbing his head. Piccolo didn't even have to look up to know it was his brother doing his best to calm him down. To be honest, it kinda did. It was Kami's way of saying everything would be alright, that there was nothing to be afraid of. And if that's what his big brother said, then that's what would happen.

"But Mr. Cyash," another Namekian spoke up, "we have no clue what this Ploge is. Yet you say it is already been found in a few of our brethren. How is it we have not seen any signs of it?"

"The name is Cash," the man muttered before answering louder "As I understand it, the earliest symptoms are very mild. A fever and some coughing or sneezing is as obvious as it gets in the beginning. Many people don't even get these signs before they are struck down. As someone who has witnessed this disease firsthand, I can guarantee you that this is a very deadly disease."

"And what do you plan on doing to counteract this disease?"

"We intend on gathering as many of you into one area before screening you for the disease. All of the healthy ones will be lead to another site to protect against infected hosts while those infected will be led to another site for further quarantining. As I said before, your cooperation will be necessary for all of this to go as smoothly as possible."

The first Namek then spoke up again. "Do you do this on your home planet?"

There was a moment's silence before Cash answered "Yes. We have found that to be most effective at containing the disease."

"But wouldn't that increase this risk of spreading the disease to healthy people if we put everyone in one area before screening? We could just spread the disease faster and lose people that could be saved!"

"That is a risk," Cash acknowledged, nodding his head in understanding. "But we cannot take the risk of letting a potentially infected host to wander around by their self and slip into the unaffected camp without being tested. Otherwise more people will die. Trust me, this is the only way."

There was a soft murmuring rumbling throughout the crowd. Many of the Namekians were considering the Earth Delegate's words, some of them agreeing with his logic while others were suspect over it. Piccolo wasn't sure what to feel, so he let better minds tussle with the significance of this announcement.

"When would you like to begin this quarantine?" someone finally asked after awhile.

"Now actually."

That was when a group of soldiers appeared from behind the wall, a line of them marching from either side and moving around the large gathering of Nameks. Each one was armed with what the Earthlings called guns. Once they had surrounded the ground, they all turned inward, staring at them with impassive looks. "If you will line up single file, we will direct you to the camp that you will be staying in," Cash instructed. "I wish to apologize for the show of soldiers, but it would be best if none of you left."

Piccolo had a hard time holding back a snort. Did he really thing he could hold them all here like this? Even the youngest of Nameks underwent flight instruction. All they had to do was take off into the air and they would be free to do as they pleased. In fact, how dare they show this sort of force against them! Why, he was half a mind to—

"Calm down, Piccolo," he suddenly heard Kami speak, disrupting his thoughts. "They mean us no harm, so let's do as they say. The sooner we do, the better. They are looking after our best interests."

"If you say so," Piccolo mumbled reluctantly.

Before they knew it, the crowd had been lined up and directed away from the stage and partial wall. It was then they all saw a larger wall on another island, this one circling most of the landmass. A set of iron doors were wide open, inviting them in. At the edge of their present island, several boats were anchored at the shore, several more Earth Soldiers standing by them.

"Please walk onto the boats and we will shuttle you to the quarantine area," another man with a microphone declared by the boats. A few of the men held their hands up, waving them to the floating contraptions.

One of the Namek's stared at the boats before looking to one of the nearby soldiers and said "You know, it would be a lot easier and faster if we just flew over there."

"Please, just get on the boats," the solider replied. "It would just make our lives easier."

"Your lives or ours?"

"I'm just going to fly over there," another Namekian spoke before lifting off the ground, beginning the flight over there.

Immediately, several guns were trained on him, the clicking of safety switches being switched off were made. "Sir, come down this instant!" one soldier demanded, looking through the sights of his weapon.

"Hold on! HOLD ON!" a voice cried out, the source of the voice revealing to be Cash. The stout man hurried over to the mean, panting fiercely. "No one shoot! Hold your fire!"

Everyone, Earthling and Namekian alike, stared at him. As the man caught his breath, he then said "If these gentlemen would like to fly to the complex, I see no reason why they shouldn't. Just as long as they fly to the complex and only the complex, let them. If they deviate their course though, we will have to take action."

"But Sir!" one of the soldiers protested.

"Stand down!" Cash roared. Immediately, all of the guns were pointed to the ground, the safety switches being switched on. Turning to the rest of the Nameks, Cash then said "I apologize for this incident. Please, if you wish, you may fly over to the complex."

Many of the Nameks nodded their heads in acceptance of the apology, then lifted off the ground, flying over to the cordoned island. Uneasily the soldiers watched as the Namekians flew away, keeping a sharp on anyone that decided to go in a different direction.

All the while, Piccolo kept an eye on the Humans. Something about them was setting an alarm off in his head, but he didn't know why. There was an uneasy feeling in his stomach, though what it meant he had no idea. Hopefully it would pass.


	7. Sick

The Onius Resource Satellite was, for lack of a better word, a gigantic asteroid. When Planet Vegeta had been faced with a shortage of resources, the Saiyan race had turned to the stars in order to survive. Of the many advances their scientists created at that time was the technology needed to mine various asteroids. Specifically, they needed machines that could actually pierces the hardened exteriors of the floating space rocks. Once that was accomplished, they were able to make them somewhat hospitable for labor conditions, specifically making an environment that didn't constantly suck out oxygen and workers while they worked. Since then, the asteroids had been fitted for actual living conditions, which decreased the need for sending huge military caravans just to cart in food and other necessities.

It was nothing less than art for engineers.

But with that said, no self-respecting Saiyan was going to willingly get his hands dirty with grunt work such as mining. When ever a resource center was created, a nearby planet was selected for appropriating a labor force. For Onius, the closest planet happened to be a tiny one by the name of Shamo.

The Shamoians were a tiny species themselves, which made conquering them that much easier. There wasn't a single worthy warrior amongst their ranks that threatened the weakest of Saiyans. The first engagement on the planet was the last one. One city had been wiped out in a day's time, resulting in the immediate surrender of the Shamoian people. That had allowed the entire race to become the workforce for Onius.

As mentioned before, they were a small race. They were about the size of a Saiyan infant, adult and child alike. The only difference between them was the shades of their skins, the children taking on lighter colors while the adults were of darker shades of the same color. With that said, there were Shamoians of every color on the spectrum. To top it all, a small stock of hair growing form the tops of their heads.

Each Shamoian wore robes that looked more like burlap backs with holes in them. These bags pretty much covered each alien from shoulder to foot, their talon-like feet barely peaking out from beneath their robes. Thin, banded arms hung lankily at their sides. All in all, they were a very weak race.

But with that said, they could do every task ordered of them. They were the main source of miners here, along with maintaining the satellite. There really wasn't much need for Saiyans to be here other than as guards—well, except for the fact that a military general got the bright idea to double each resource satellite as a military base. Otherwise the need for a brigade of Saiyans was utterly overkill to have posted this far in space without a decent reason.

And it was here that Bardock found himself stationed for his current tour. As he stood with his arms crossed over his chest, he looked out into a cavern of massive proportions. Lights were positions on various points of the cavern walls, each light indicating where one group of Shamoians were working, mining various ores and minerals. With a scowl, Bardock spat out some saliva in disgust. A freaking babysitting post was what this was. He had so many better things to do with his time then watch some pitiful aliens labor away their pointless lives. It was almost an insult.

No, he was mistaken; it _was_ an insult. Those asshole generals had nothing better to do with their time than piss people off. Bardock swore they were getting more and more demented the longer they stayed out of the field.

Something hit Bardock in the leg then, a loud clatter soon following it. Looking down, he found on the ground near him was one of many Shamoians, sprawled out with several tools lying around it. The little alien had its face scrunched up, small whimpering sounds coming from it. Due to it keeping its eyes being closed, it hadn't seen him nor tried to get up. However, when its eyelids did open, fear overcame the small creature, its body shaking in fright.

"I-I-I'm s-sorry," it stammered as it practically flew on to its hands and needs, gathering as many of its tools as it could. "I-I didn't m-mean to ru-run into you. P-Please forgive me."

Bardock just continued looking down on the alien, his eyes boring holes into the pitiful creature, which caused it to huddle itself until its head and arms were hidden in the folds of its robe, a standing pile of rags.

Then with a grunt, he looked away from the alien and said "Get out of my sights."

"Yes sir, of course sir, immediately sir!" the Shamoian said as quickly as it could. Spinning around, it took off into the cavern, trying to put as much distance between it and him as its tiny legs could. Bardock felt a bubble of humor rising up his chest, but he didn't bother letting his amusement be known. It just wasn't worth the effort to react to insignificant aliens.

"You know, if I were you, I would have killed that little bug," a voice from behind him. A moment later and another Saiyan was standing next to him. Bardock didn't even bother glancing at him to identify him. He wasn't worth the effort, much like the Shamoain.

"What? Cat got your tongue?" the man commented, sounding amused.

"Something like that," Bardock commented.

"You know, with an attitude like that, you're just going to make this whole post much more difficult. You might as well be friendly with your fellow Saiyan and make your life easier if you know what I mean."

Bardock decided to finally look at the Saiyan he was speaking to and found a man in typical dark Saiyan Armor. His spiky hair cascaded down the back and sides of his head, coming to an end at the top of his shoulder guards. He had an arrogant look about his face, made more vain by his sharp nose and chin. His eyes were half-lidded, hiding his dark eyes somewhat. All in all, it gave Bardock the urge to deck him for bothering to speak with him.

"So the high-and-mighty Saiyan decides to grace me with a look," the man mocked, increasing that violent urge of Bardock's. "Name's Prape, Lieutenant. Mind telling me why you're just staring at the vermin out there solider?"

Oh, he wasn't just an ass, but a ranked ass. Bardock merely turned his head away from him and looked out into the cavern. "Because I was stationed here, why else? Now why don't you go bother someone else."

"Is that any way to speak to a superior officer?" Prape replied, his face lighting up with Bardock's resistance. "You know, I could have you written up for disrespecting me."

"Is that right?"

"It is. But I'm a fair man. We can work out this misunderstanding just between the two of us and you won't have to worry about an infraction against your record. So what do you say?"

"And what exactly do you have in mind?"

"Oh, nothing too troublesome. I'm in need of a new boot polisher and you fit the job description perfectly. Of course, you'll have to beg for such a post."

Bardock didn't even bother giving a show of considering his offer. Even if he was a greenie fresh out of the academy, he never would have agreed to anything as demeaning as groveling. It was just the way he was. However, he did give the man a reaction, one that he had been dying to give him for awhile. With a jerk of his arm, he shot his elbow up and back, nailing Prape right in the nose, a distinctive crunching sound being made.

With a cry, the Saiyan stumbled backwards until he fell onto his ass on the ground. One hand was covering his nose, blood leaking from between his fingers. "Bou basbard!" he shouted, his voice altered by his by his closed nasal passage. "I'm bonna sbin bou alibe, bou bear be! I bant bour bame bolider!"

Bardock turned around to look at the man from his side. He really wanted to see this. "Bardock, Captain."

It was a pleasant sight to see Prape's face pale. Superior officer his ass. Bardock kept a calm expression on his face despite wanting to smirk at him. Though he wasn't one to throw his rank around, when ever he came across pissants like this guy, he couldn't help but enjoy destroying their self-importance.

Before Prape could grovel for his forgiveness—not that Bardock wanted any of it to begin with—he beat him to the punch. "So I believe it would be in your best interest to forget this little encounter ever happened. I rather not have to write up paper work on you bullying a…what were your words? A superior officer, right?"

Prape didn't seem to be getting with the program though. With his hand removed from his hand so he could actually speak properly, he shot back "And what if I report you to a higher officer, huh?"

Bardock shrugged. "Go ahead. I wouldn't if I were you though. You'll be admitting to everyone on base that you can't take a hit—a pansy with a rank. Imagine the kind of respect, or lack thereof, you'll receive. If that's the kind of respect you want, I won't stop you."

That thought hadn't seemed to cross Prape's mind, but it was now. It took all of a second after that realization for him to look away and say "Fine, let's forget this."

Bardock finally smirked. "Good choice. And as long as we're forgetting this…"

In an instant, Bardock threw his arms out to his sides and swung his back leg at Prape, slamming his foot into the man's face. Another cry came from the man as he spun from his seated position to lying on the floor, clutching the side of his face. Oh, that had felt greeeeeeat.

"You asshole!" Prape roared as he swung his torso back up, glaring at him. A bruise was already forming right where Bardock had kicked him, giving him much more satisfaction.

"What's the matter? We're forgetting this ever happened right? Just forget that too."

"Then how do you explain this?" he shouted as he pointed at his damaged face.

Bardock shrugged before turning away from him and walking towards a nearby hallway. "Not my problem. Just say you fell down some stairs or something."

As it turned out, Bardock hadn't gotten very far before he heard someone exclaim behind him "Prape! What happened to you?"

A smirk appeared on his face as he heard Prape mutter out "I…fell down some stairs."

Once he was out of the vicinity of Prape, Bardock absently let his feet lead him to a destination only they knew. That's fancy talk for wandering around aimlessly. However, it seemed his aimless walking had a destination in mind when he came across the cafeteria. With a rumble of his stomach, Bardock saw no other reason than that to enter.

The cafeteria was a large room with several long tables reaching from one side of the room to the other. Food was stacked in the middle each table from one end to the other, much of it being consumed while some was just waiting for someone to sit down and eat it. It was easier to do this than have lines from the kitchen. Shamoians were hurrying about the room, holding treys that were covered with dirty dishes or plates stacked with food.

Scanning the room, Bardock soon caught the familiar sight of Shugesh and Borgos sitting by themselves. Strolling over to them, he plopped down in a seat next to Borgos and reached for some random meat. Turned out he grabbed something that looked like a fruit, though who knows where it came from. Neither Saiyan bothered looking up at him at first, too consumed with their feeding. Eventually, Shugesh glanced at him and said "About time you got here."

Bardock raised an eyebrow at that before lifting up the fruit and taking a bite out of it, its sweet juices pouring into his mouth as he heard an audible crunch. "What's that suppose to mean?" he asked around the bits of food in his mouth.

"I figured you were starving yourself with Fasha, but it seems you still have some good sense in your head."

"I eat when I want to eat and not before. I don't need to have a drumstick sticking out of my mouth at all times."

Shugesh smirked at him as he held a drumstick up. "Jealous?"

"Only when I'm missing some useless blubber."

Shugesh chuckled before something caught his eye. Looking over Bardock's shoulder, he then commented "Looks like someone got their ass whipped."

Bardock didn't even have to look back to know it was Prape. Incidentally, he could feel someone giving him an evil stare at the back of his head, though to be honest it could have been anyone. He wasn't exactly the type to be making friends.

"Looks like a lieutenant," Borgos softly spoke up for the first time in who knows when.

This caused both Bardock and Shugesh to look at him. "And how would you know that?" Shugesh demanded.

A small smile appeared on Borgos face. "He has a stick up his ass."

That caused Bardock to chuckle as Shugesh roared with laughter. "I like that," the fattier Saiyan proclaimed, pounding a fist on the table. "You don't talk much, but you can say some smart things, Borgos."

For once, Bardock turned in his seat to find Prape still glaring at him. Giving him a smirk, he then turned back around and said "Looks like he fell down some stairs."

"And you would know, huh?" Shugesh grunted before ripping the meat off of his drumstick with his teeth. As he chewed, he stared right into Bardock's face for several moments before swallowing. "Would you have happened to be around when he fell? Perhaps at the top of the stairs and giving him a helpful push?"

The smirk remained on Bardock's face as he reached out for another bite. "Something like that."

Another grunt. "Punk probably deserved it."

"You have no idea."

* * *

Nothing of note happened after lunch. This was what life was going to be like for the next few months: boring guard duty with a few instances of mild entertainment, mostly from guys that hadn't even enslaved an entire population yet. For the record, Bardock had done that for his very first mission. It was quite a learning experience.

Entering his quarters, he didn't even bother turning on his light, comfortable in being bathed in darkness as his door slid shut behind him. He pulled off his armor and dropped it on the floor carelessly. His arm guards and boots followed shortly after. His scouter on the other hand was treated with a bit more care as he placed it on the small table next to his bed. Even in darkness he knew where it was just by routine. In short order he was only in his spandex pants and lying on his bed, his arms propping up his head comfortably. Shutting his eyes, he awaited for sleep to claim him.

Now if that other person in his room would buggar off, life would be just perfect.

"How long are you going to make me wait?" he spoke after awhile. "If you have something to say, say it and get out."

"You always did have a way with words, Bardock," a feminine voice replied.

Bardock let his eyes open, though they stopped about halfway. "What do you want Fasha?"

He heard some rustling from somewhere near the door. "You haven't changed much, have you?" he heard her say coyly. Ugh, he was not in the mood to play games.

"One thing has: I don't like messing with bullshit."

Fasha chuckled. "You never messed with that. Perhaps you have a shorter fuse, but that's one thing that will never change with you. Besides, I'm not here to bullshit with you. I have other things more worth my time."

Bardock didn't bother replying. Fasha was going to tell him what she wanted sooner or later and it didn't really matter if he added the appropriate conversation quips to hurry it along. Most times it wasn't worth the effort.

And as he expected, Fasha continued their "conversation." "You know, we're going to be on this rock for a long time." Bardock grunted his acknowledgement of that statement. It was the least he could do. "And as you know, there aren't a lot of women here, so there's quite a bit of competition for my attention."

"Truly a rarity for you." Hmm, broke his rule with talking. He really was getting soft—or sleepy. Never underestimate the powers of exhaustion.

"And you know as well as I do that there aren't many _real men_ here. None that are worth my time. So I have a proposal for you: I'm in the mood for some fun and you're the only man here."

Suddenly, Bardock liked where this was going.

"I'm the only 'real man' here, huh?"

"That's what my sister told me. You better not disappoint."

Oh, that was right. His wife and Fasha were sisters. Funny how he always forgot that part. Then again, they only said a grand total of six words when he and Seripa were married. That conversation went "You're a dead man," followed by "Bite me." Guess who said which.

Through some extraordinary coincidence though, somehow Fasha and him ended up in the same unit and they had been much more cordial. Probably had something to do with Seripa dying; who knows. Their unit had been formed shortly after his wife's death after all.

"I wouldn't worry about me disappointing, Short Stuff," Bardock shot back, moving his arms from the back of his head and using them to prop up his upper body. "It's you I'd be more worried about coming up short."

It was then that the lights came on, revealing Fasha standing by the door wearing only her spandex bodysuit. She stared back at him with appraising eyes. "Is that a challenge?" she replied coyly.

Bardock frowned. "Either put up or shut up."

Fasha smirked at him. Then in one fluid motion, both of her arms went up to the shoulder straps of her bodysuit and pulled them over her shoulders. Effortlessly, the pink spandex was removed from her body and Bardock had to admit, she had never looked better.

With a smirk appearing on his face as he pushed his torso off the bed to sit up, he then said "Let's see what you got."

* * *

A quick note: I am fully aware that Seripa is the Japanese version for Fasha. However, I just got tired of referring to Bardock's dead wife as...well, his dead wife and gave her a name. Since I was using Fasha already, I just took her other name and gave it to the wife. It was just sitting there and I needed the name. You don't blame me for taking a short cut...right?


	8. What You Want

X.S. Cash leaned over his paper-laden desk and sighed in disgust. Why him? Why was he stuck in this backwater of a planet playing the role of planetary babysitter to a bunch of slug people?

He deserved better than this. He had a pedigree that made most politicians turn green with envy: a degree from a top-tier university, more wealth than he knew what to do with, and a killer business instinct that gave him every chance to excel. Yet all of his qualifications made him a delegate to a planet that didn't have a single major landmass outside of islands. Someone was trying to insult him or just bury him in insignificance. It must have been one of his jealous rivals that had done this to him. Les Coin or "Hot" Checks. Those two had been trying to tear him down for ages.

And these Nameks…ugh. These people were so beneath him it wasn't even funny anymore. The constant questions, the quaintness of their society, and their Kami-damned green skin were just one big nuisance to him. He deserved much better than this.

Taking off his monocle, he absently began cleaning it with his handkerchief. Just a look at all of the reports and letters spewed atop his desk was just another thing that annoyed him. There had to be a way off of this rock. He would do anything to get out of this menial work.

"Sir," a solider called out to him from the doorway to his office.

Placing his monocle back in front of his eye, he glanced at the man before saying "What is it? Can't you see I'm busy?"

"A cabal from Earth has arrived," the soldier replied, looking none too put off with his briskness. That was one good thing with being around soldiers. He could take his frustrations out on them and they couldn't do a thing back. It went against the chain of leadership or what ever it was they followed.

"Just put it on my desk," Cash said dismissively. Another letter from Earth wasn't much to get excited for. Probably just another status report or something as trivial.

The soldier approached the desk, but instead of doing as ordered, he held out the cabal to him. "It says 'urgent' sir," the man spoke, his deep voice reverberating in the delegate's ear.

Though annoyed, Cash looked at the man to reprimand him when he noticed just how large he was; how much of a resemblance he had to the Frankenstein Monster. Perhaps this wasn't the guy to be short with, at least for now. The next guy would be a better choice to vent at. Taking the message from the man, he began reading it. As much as he would have rather set it aside at the moment, he got the feeling this humongous soldier wanted this cabal dealt with immediately. Alas, Cash knew this would be just like all the other messages he had gotten from Earth.

As it turned out, this cabal wasn't his usual communication. Oh no, it was giving him explicit instructions that he found himself almost eager to do. He wasn't too sure who this "Gero" fellow was outside of his standing as one of the chairs in the Earth Government, but this cabal was giving him authorization to do what was necessary to contain the Namekian people—including killing them.

Hmmm, perhaps he could turn this to his advantage.

"Soldier, tell me what the plague outbreak looks like."

The solider straightened out his posture. "Sir, tests are indicating a mass contamination."

Was that so? Well then, there was just no other alternative. Grabbing a blank piece of paper, Cash hastily wrote down a report—more specifically a very short, very pointed note. Signing it, he handed the soldier the paper and said "Send this note back to Earth, specifically Gero. Then I want the order given out to quicken the containment of the Namekian people. This plague is worse than we thought and I need final authorization to take specific measures."

"Sir!" the man said before doing an about-face and leaving his office. Once he was gone, Cash leaned back in his chair and smiled widely.

It seemed he had found his way off of this planet.

* * *

Blue stewed in his office, leaning forward in his chair as his elbows propped up on top of his desk, his hands clasped in front of his face.

He was the third chair in this government, the third highest ranked and so far, he was being replaced by a mere twentieth chair. A twentieth! It had been _he_ who was in charge of Namek, _he_ who held the fate of the planet in the palm of his hand. But now, after Gero found that DNA thing, it had been all but supplanted as the overseer of that giant, watery world. He could barely stand it.

He hadn't ever been on good terms with that old man. True, it was his weapons and technology that had given the Earth the technological might it needed in order to survive in this space age, but that was all the credit he would give him. The moment he had placed the first Blitz Rifles in the hands of the military, it was as if he had also inserted himself into the political realm as well. Winning that election in his region only made it a formal title.

But ever since his arrival, Blue had felt himself losing more and more power. After everything he had done for this council, he was being pushed aside by an old man who probably couldn't make it through the night without taking a piss at least twice. He was the young man that would succeed Red when he finally couldn't hold onto his seat, him, not that old geezer!

"Why is this happening?" he couldn't help but growl out loud. He needed to stop this sulking of his—it was unbecoming of someone of his caliber. No, he needed to do something and do it soon. Before he was cast aside as a relic before he reached his prime.

There was a knock at his door. Blue didn't respond to it for several seconds, biding his time. Finally he called out "Come in."

The door slowly opened and revealed the closest thing he had to a secondhand man. Dark closed the door behind him and stiffly bowed, his extended gut preventing him from giving a more dignified bow. Straightening up, he then approached Blue's desk and took a seat in one of the chairs standing before it.

"I'm glad you've come," Blue greeted him.

"Of course," Dark replied. "How may I be of service?"

Blue leaned back into his chair. This had been something he had given much thought towards, just like all of his endeavors. "I need you to investigate something for me. I need you to search the Twentieth Chair Gero's lab."

Dark didn't seem adverse to this request. Still, he had to ask "May I ask why?"

Though his contributions had been numerous, no one knew what went on in Gero's lab. It was almost a whole other world. Yet it was in this lab that found that plague strain on Namek and had been the grounds for various advances in the blitz weapons. It was also likely that Gero had some skeletons hidden in there that could damage his ambitions. That was what Blue was after.

"Gero is becoming a nuisance. The amount of power he is beginning to wield is unseemly considering his station. I need something incriminating to restore the balance of the Council."

A wide smirk appeared on Dark's face. "I believe I can assist you in that. I shall unearth so many of his secrets you would be able to bury him ten, no, twenty feet into the ground!"

Blue's eyes twinkled as he did his best to keep his enthusiasm under wraps. "I knew I would be able to count on you. You'll need to take care of this as quickly and quietly as possible. No sense in tipping our hand until we have everything we need."

* * *

Gero wanted to be anywhere but where he was. But due to decorum he had no choice but to be here. It was just one more thing that annoyed him about being a representative of the Council.

He was seated before Jericho Sedici, the giant of a man sitting comfortable in a large, posh chair. The Neanderthal had requested a meeting with him despite the busy schedule Gero kept. Unfortunately, he wasn't able to deny the request considering there were other Council members around and he couldn't give them any more reason to think he was alienating them. Who ever said females were the gossipers had never been around politicians. They could invent hundreds of rumors in the same amount of time it took a woman to make up one.

Though if more women actually became politicians, Kami help them all.

"Allow me to get right to the point," Jericho stated. "I believe that you and I are of like minds when it comes to the Council."

Gero resisted rolling his eyes. Any fool could see changes had to be made to the Council and this overgrown primate was one of them. Though it was likely this man would spout off some idealistic change that needed to occur, Gero would just keep his patience and let the man blabber. It was the least he could do. "Pray tell, how is it we are of like minds?"

"The Council is full of incumbents, all of which haven't had to fight for their chair in quite some time," Jericho explained. "That has resulted in stagnation when it comes to important decisions. Too many vain men are arguing over non-issues when there are bigger ones at stake. Your revelation that there was a plague strain on Namek is one such example of this."

Blah, blah, blah, we need to change things up, streamline the decision-making process, etc. etc. Gero had heard all of this before.

"And I believe, if this Council is going to continue on this course of action, we must do away with the ones that hinder the process—for the good of Earth."

Oh yes, getting rid of the competition was a fine idea. Too bad Gero had already been weeding everyone out. Poor Mr. Sedici was slightly behind the curve. "Quite an opinion," he said diplomatically. "But I don't see how this involves the two of us."

"I'm sure you know of people that share our perspective. Would it not assist us to recruit more like-minded people and seat them at the Council?"

Gero was about to make a scathing remark of how pointless it was to recruit the other members when something struck him. "Do you mean to fill the current vacancies with men that would support us?"

Jericho nodded his head. "In a word, yes."

My, my, my, Gero had underestimated him. There was more thought put into this man than he had given credit for. Of course, there was that little thing called the election process that might prove inconvenient. "How would you propose doing that? Any of our picks would have to be elected and there is no guarantee that they will be."

"Very true," the large man acknowledged. "However, there are other recourses that we may undertake. I have found protocols for replacement representatives in the bylaws of the Council, ones that would allow us to seat other people should certain circumstances arise."

"And those circumstances are?"

"If a representative is absent from their post for a certain period of time, they may be impeached for neglect of their responsibilities and replaced by the Council. Of course the candidate would have to win their next election cycle, but in the short term, it would provide us the opportunity to sway the Council to our side."

This, this was what Gero had been waiting for. It was a shame that he hadn't thought of it first, but this Jericho Sedici had presented him an opportunity that he simply could not pass. It was utterly brilliant. "I'm assuming such conditions are to be met fairly soon," Gero offered.

Jericho nodded. "Yes. There are three seats that will be opened by week's end: the Seventeenth, Eighteenth, and Nineteenth chairs. I highly suggest you find someone that would make a good fit for one of those seats."

"Oh, I believe I have someone in mind," Gero replied, his mind racing for a suitable candidate. Of course, there were only so many people he could count on to follow his orders to the letter, but it would be one of those people he would select for such an assignment. "Do you have any confidants that would assist us?"

Again, Jericho nodded his affirmation. "There are a couple of people I know that would assist us in our endeavor."

Excellent. The more Gero heard of this plan, the more he was getting behind it. Truly, this was a blessing. "How soon can you have them arrive?"

"In a few days. However, we are going to need them to be caught up to speed."

Gero waved that notion off. "We can make do with what we have. I can have them set up as interns under yours or my office. They can learn all they need from those areas. Considering what we are doing, it won't matter for long if they know all of the ends and outs of the political arena."

"How about your man? Will he also need such preparation?"

"Oh no, the man that I have in mind is already here. He's an assistant of mine and he is very well versed in the comings and goings of this building."

"Really? I would very much like to meet this man."

"You will when your associates arrive. We can have one meeting together instead of multiple little ones. Wasteful meetings are nothing but distractions in the long run."

"Very well," he acquiescent. "I suppose this concludes our meeting, yes?"

"It would seem so, Mr. Sedici."

Standing up, Gero followed the red-haired man's example, the two of them shaking hands. "It was a pleasure," Jericho said with a small smile.

"The pleasure is all mine."

Once he was out of there, Gero's mind became a whirlwind of ideas. This proposition held great opportunity. Not only could replacing missing members boost his influence over the Council, but he could also create future opportunities with this measure. To think, when he had first begun consolidating his power, he had never intended on creating a conspiracy out of it.

And if he were to make more councilmen disappear, he would have to choose the ones that were more likely to argue against him. It didn't take him very long to make a list of those that would just have to take early retirement and to be honest, he couldn't help his growing excitement at the prospect of eliminating some undesirable rivals. Removing thorns from his side was always an attractive activity.

What a grand day this was becoming.

Once he arrived at his lab, he quickly entered it and went to his computer. Though he would have liked to dwell more on his new alliance with Mr. Sedici, there were still other matters that needed to be attended to. As his computer came to life, he heard the sounds of footsteps from behind him.

"Greetings, Dr Gero," he heard the familiar mechanical voice of Nineteen greet. "How may I be of service?"

"We are going to have guests soon," Gero informed him as his fingers began typing on the keyboard at a quick rate. "I hope you do not mind having more assistance in the laboratory."

"That is of little concern," Nineteen replied. "What ever Dr. Gero wishes is my wishes."

A smirk appeared on the elderly man's face. It was always good to have a subservient subordinate. It made his work that much easier. "Speaking of wishes, I believe I have another task for you."

"What do you wish of me?"

"It seems we have a new ally in the Sixteenth Chair. He has brought to my attention a procedure that will allow us to take control of the Council and use it to the betterment of humanity. It is through this procedure that we will place councilmen in league with our desires to turn the Council in our favor. That is where you come in."

"The Doctor wishes for me to join the Council?"

"That is correct. The Sixteenth Chair is also bringing people in and it is them that will be assisting us in the lab, at least for a short duration." Turning his head, Gero found Nineteen staring at him impassively. "Is that a problem?"

"There is no problem, Dr. Gero. I will do as instructed by you."

The smirk grew wider. "Very good. Now then, I need you to go clean up the cells. I believe our uses for the former Fifth Chair have ended."


	9. Everybody's Fool

Gero had left his lab some time ago. Dark hadn't entered immediately, making sure the Twentieth Chair wasn't going to turn around and come back, catching the pudgy man in the middle of his lab. That just wouldn't do.

However, once he was positive that Gero was gone for good, he snuck into the lab, slowly opening the door and closing it behind him to keep the amount of noise it would make to a minimum. The moment he saw the inside of the room, he sneered in his disgust. What a man like Gero needed with all of this junk was beyond him, but amongst this junk would lead to the old man's downfall. Dark would not let Blue down in this endeavor.

Walking carefully, he took in all of the machinery that was placed all about the large room. Most of them were off, not that he knew what their use was when turned on. None of this gave him what he wanted.

Hmm…what was that over there? There was a large machine with a computer panel and screen on it. Was that Gero's main computer? Perfect, that had to have some information he could gather. Walking up to the mainframe, he immediately turned on the computer, his excitement growing when he saw the screen come on, only to have it die in disappointment when he saw a password window open up. He'd have to make a return trip to get on this computer once he had the password on his person.

Turning away from the computer, Dark pressed on into the lab. He noticed a table covered with various chemicals and containers on it, probably for that mad scientist stuff he pretended to perform. There were a few chalkboards near the table, foreign letters and number scrawled over it. Dark paused at the board to try to make sense of it, but it was as if he were reading another language.

Dark growled at this. This was not how this exploration was supposed to go. He was supposed to find a mother load of controversial information; in fact, it should have been lying about somewhere for him to find since Gero was so arrogant enough to let it lie about.

"This is not over, Geeero," he sneered to himself. Ha, he liked that name better than Gero's usual one. He had to tell Blue about it when he met up with him. Surely the Third Chair would laugh jovially over it.

But first thing was first, he had to find dirt. Leaving the chemistry stuff behind, he ventured further into the lab. The only companion he had was silence as he passed by larger and larger bulks of equipment.

As time went by, Dark began to fret that this would be a worthless venture. He should have found something by now, yet all he saw was more of the same hunks of junk. Maybe there wasn't anything here other than an honest to Kami laboratory. No! No it wasn't! Perhaps there was a hidden room in this place that held the old man's secrets. Yes, yes that had to be it! There was no other explanation.

With renewed focus, Dark pressed on until he reached the back of the lab. It was here he found a series of doorways staring at him. They were of solid metal, something that sent off sirens in his head. This had to be the place where Gero kept his less savory activities. Excitement was filling his pudgy body. Let's see what was behind these doors.

Going to the rightmost door, he strained with all of his might to open the door, finding it difficult to open. However, the door did begin to open, only to reveal a sterile room with a table and cabinets in it. Walking in, Dark began searching the cabinets only to find various surgical instruments. Hmm…why would a scientist have medical supplies?

It never occurred to him that dissections were apart of science, adding to the fact that he was willfully blind to any honest reason Gero may have for such tools. It was his first big break and he wasn't going to let anything get in the way of belittling it. Though there wasn't much left to find in this room, he still had a few more to check out. Leaving the room, he shoved the door shut behind him and turned his attention to the other doors.

The next two doors revealed the same such sight as the first one, something that annoyed the Ninth Chair. However, the next door proved more suspicious as he found it locked shut. Now what was going on in there? Sure the previous doors had been hard to open, but they were all unlocked. What was Gero keeping in here?

"There must be a key to this door somewhere here," he murmured to himself. Perhaps he needed to head back to that computer part of the lab. Surely there would be a set of spare keys to these doors. One never knew when they would need a spare key after all. Satisfied with his course of action, Dark turned around to go fetch the spare set.

That was when a hand came out of nowhere and grabbed him by the neck. Surprised, Dark attempted to let out a yelp of shock, only to have it come out as a choked gasp as the fingers tightened down hard and stifled his reaction.

That was when things took a turn for the extreme. Slowly, but surely, Dark was shoved against the metal door behind him and then lifted right off the floor. Now, Dark was a man who was slightly sensitive about his weight. He wasn't a fat man, just well-endowed with big bones. Yet, even he knew no man should have been able to lift him off the ground easily, much less with one arm. Shooting his hands up, Dark grasped at the arm, trying to remove it from his throat to no avail.

Letting out another choked gasped, he looked down at his attacker, finding a squatty man with the whitest face he had ever seen. He had to have been an associate of Gero's though, since he wore similar clothes to the old man. However, his blue eyes were boring into him like drills. Between the eyes and the inhuman strength, Dark had no idea which to be more unnerved by. That feeling was slowly ebbing away though, leaving him with an odd exhaustion that seemed to come from nowhere.

"Intruder," the mystery man said in a mechanical-sounding voice. "Doctor Gero, we have an unauthorized visitor."

"So I see," Dark heard the familiar, grating voice of Gero answer. What ever fatigue Dark had been feeling vanished immediately as anger flood him.

"Un…unhand me…" the Ninth Chair spat out. He would have said more, but his breathing was being affected by that strong hand. He was barely sucking in air as it was.

"No, no I don't believe he will," Gero retorted, appearing in view of Dark's eyes, both of which were being covered with red veins. "After all, you are an intruder. Tell me, what business do you have here?"

"Ca….can't….breathe," Dark sputtered out.

"Yes, I know you can't. And if you don't answer me quickly, you won't be breathing ever again."

"N…none of…your…b…business…" he spat out.

Gero's eyes narrowed. "Oh, but I believe it is. Regardless, it doesn't take a primate to figure out that the Third Chair must have sent you. You won't even take a piss without his blessing. That man is truly proving to be bothersome."

Dark's eyelids began to grow heavy as that strange fatigue began to overcome him again. He tried to say something, anything, but he was finding it harder to do with every passing second. What…what was hap…happening to…him?

It should have come as no surprise that Gero knew what was going on. "Hmm, it seems those energy absorption units are performing as designed. Not exactly the trial test I wanted to use them on, but I suppose even someone as worthless as you can have some use."

That brought some life back into Dark as fury etched itself on his face. That disappeared instantly, however, as it seemed like it was sucked right out of him. What…what had that old man done to him?

"What do you wish to do with him?" the fat, white man asked in that emotionless voice. "Do you wish to use him as a specimen?"

"No, no I don't believe I will. His body is evidence of poor care and neglect so I doubt I could obtain anything of substance from using him."

For a moment, Dark had a thought of that medical equipment he found in the previous rooms. Was that what they were used for? To cut people up with? That monster! Had he actually opened people up? Why, when he got out of here he would make sure that man was sent to the deepest…darkest…dungeon…he could…could…find…

Gero wasn't finished talking though. "I suppose we can check the data you've collected concerning energy absorbers, but that would be it. Now if you would, dispose of this trash Nineteen. He has far outlived his uses or lack thereof."

"Yes, Dr. Gero."

That was when Nineteen's hand clamped down harder on Dark's throat, causing a new bought of choking to the man. However, Dark felt something wrong as his neck seemed to crumple in the man's grasped.

Then in an instant, Dark neck gave out, the muscle and tissue crushed together and sealing his windpipe shut. Blood erupted out of Dark's mouth as pain shot throughout his body. It felt like an eternity of anguish as the man rode through wave after wave of pain, the lack of air ripping through his brain.

His arms felt off of Nineteen's as merciful darkness overcame him and death soon after.

* * *

Gero hadn't bothered listening to the Ninth Chair's last pitiful gasps, turning his back on the man and Nineteen once he gave the order and walked away. Mere seconds passed before Nineteen was following him.

Still, Dark being in his lab meant that Blue was getting desperate. While the Ninth Chair just became vacant, not to mention steered more power towards his cause, it would only mean the Third Chair would target him even more than he already was. The death of his subordinate would put the man on the path of vengeance and that could prove disastrous if Blue did come across something to discredit him with, be it real or fabricated.

Gero's timetable was going to have to be pushed up.

"Has my cabal reached Namek yet?" he asked out loud.

There was a small pause before Nineteen replied "It has. The diplomat stationed there has sent back his report."

"And?"

"He says the entire planet is consumed with the disease. He requests for more decisive action to be taken."

"Just as we expected," Gero murmured as he arrived at his computer. X. S. Cash had always been a vain man and could be manipulated with appeals to it. Sticking him in a backwater planet like Namek had proven to be a wise decision on his part. A few days and that man was ready to move onto a more lucrative venture. That didn't even factor in the entire duration of his stay on the planet.

Regardless, it was just another step in his plan to put Namek behind him so the Council could get on to more urgent matters. "Give him the order," Gero commanded as he began accessing his computer. "Make sure any documents necessary for extermination are linked to him and him alone. If any noisy idealist goes looking for a culprit for what happened there, we can claim he was overeager to get rid of the plague. They can wrap the matter around his neck and hang him with it while we can claim indignant shock."

"Yes Dr. Gero," Nineteen replied before red lights began flashing from his eyes. "It is done."

The moment the computer screen came to life, a window immediately popped up on it, revealing the document Nineteen had just processed and sent. Running his eyes over it, a smirk appeared on the old man's face. That would do quite nicely.

"Very good. Oh and Nineteen? Be sure to clean up the mess the Ninth Chair made. We mustn't let the lab become unsanitary."

* * *

Turpick rushed down the royal hallway. In his hand was a wrinkled piece of paper with a report that the King had to absolutely know about. The lavish décor went ignored as he raced down the corridor, heading to the audience chamber. If there was one place that could lead him to King Vegeta, it would be this room.

The large, ornate doors came into view as he turned a corner. In front of it were very large guards, the crest of the Saiyan Military Elite proudly displayed on their left pectoral chest armor. Blue capes hung limply from their shoulder guards, impassive looks adorning their faces. Slowing his pace, Turpick came to a stop before the guards, his breathing labored. "I need to see the King immediately," he declared to them.

"No one sees the King without prior notice," one of the guards replied sternly. That was to be expected though. King Vegeta was notorious for not liking uninvited guests. It was why everyone in the communications room had drawn straws to see who would be the unfortunate soul to deliver the message Turpick held in his hand.

Thrusting the page towards them, Turpick merely said "We received this message minutes ago. Take a look at it and let me know whether this is a good reason to come unannounced."

Both guards rolled their eyes as one of them reached out and snatched the page. Straightening it out, the guard read it for a moment before his eyes widened and he focused harder on the text. "How did you get this?" he demanded.

"We were running through a frequency scanner test when we received this," the Saiyan answered. Well, to be more precise, one of the communication technicians accidentally retuned the communication relays and the entire section had spent a better part of the morning trying to correct everything. It was as they were scanning through useless frequencies for their previously set frequency when they stumbled upon this transmission.

"And you are sure this is real?" the guard pressed as the second guard took the page and began reading, reacting the same way as his partner.

"Absolutely. We ran a diagnostic and rerecorded the transmission three times. There is no mistake."

The guards looked to each other, then let out a sigh. "Stay here," the first guard ordered, holding his hand out for the page, which the second guard handed to him. "I will report your finding to the King. He may request your presence."

And with that, the guard opened the chamber door and slipped inside, closing it behind him. With a sigh, Turpick moved to the nearest wall and leaned against it. Well, so far so good. Hopefully the King would take the news and do what ever he wanted to do with it and he could go back to the communication's room and brag about how close he was to the King.

It was several minutes before the door opened again and the guard stuck his head out. "You, come with me," he ordered, which caused Turpick to groan inwardly. Oh great, now he was gonna have to explain himself to the King. Just…great.

Steeling himself, he walked to the doorway, sleeping through it once the guard moved out of the way, the man closing it behind him. Nervously, Turpick walked through the large hall, its lavish decorations, sweeping arches, and luxurious seating going unnoticed. All attention was focus on the dais on the opposite side of the room, a large, ornamented throne seating the King of all Saiyans.

And to Turpick's dismay, the King did not look happy.

"What is the meaning of this?" the King demanded once Turpick stood before his throne and kneeled down to offer his respect. In his hand was the piece of paper he had brought over and it was looking more worn out than it already was. Off to either side of the throne were several of the King's advisers, all of whom were focused solely on the King. If Vegeta decided to act rashly, they wanted to be able to dodge his wrath at all costs.

"W-we…we intercepted th-the transmission, milord," Turpick stuttered out, refusing to look up at the King, lest the man strike him down.

"I know that!" King Vegeta roared. "What I want to know is how you did it. What is listed on this paper is very serious, you twat."

"Fre-frequency test. We were scanning all frequencies…found this on a little used signal. We ran it several times to be sure it was accurate."

Though he wasn't looking at him, Turpick could feel the King's gaze boring into him, like he was an insect that needed to be squashed. It was some time before he heard the King swear.

"Those mad Earthlings, what are they thinking?" Chancing a glance, Turpick saw King Vegeta resting back in his thrown, one of his hands gripping the arm of the chair as the other was balled into a fist and held up in front of his mouth. The message was lying on the floor by his foot, dropped there who knows when.

"What's our nearest outpost to the Earthlings?" the King finally called out.

"It would be the Onius Resource Satillite, milord," a nearby military advisor informed him.

"And what is the closest Earthling outpost to it?"

"The facility they are currently building on Namek."

King Vegeta scowled. "They're using that planet as a staging area. No wonder they want to eradicate all of those slug people." Snapping his head to the advisor, he then ordered "I want that satellite crawling with soldiers, you hear me? If those Earthlings wish to test their might against us, I want them to feel the full fury of a Saiyan warrior."

The military advisor bowed his head. "At once, milord."

With a glance back to Turpick, King Vegeta finally seemed to relax, only slightly though. "You may leave."

Keeping his head down, Turpick replied "Yes, milord." Then with as much haste as he could muster without slighting the King, he hurried out of the audience chamber. He didn't even pause to breathe until he was out of the room, gasping for air once the large door shut behind him. Lifting one of his arms, he wiped the back of his forearm against his forehead, feeling the clamminess of his skin from his nervous sweat.


	10. Going Under

Hey guys, Happy Late Turkey Day. Here's something to be thankful for.

* * *

They were twins. They had to be. Staring at the man and woman Jericho had introduced to him, that was the first thought that crossed Gero's mind. Now, he wasn't such a fool to get stuck on the similarities of two people, but this couple was proving more difficult to accept than usual.

They were young—very young. Their faces looked strikingly similar to each other aside from the few masculine and feminine features each separately possessed. The male had dark hair that reached to his shoulders and cocky blue eyes. The female had a similar hair style and eye color.

Forcing himself to look elsewhere, Gero found the two wearing appropriate attire—a suit for young man and a blouse and skirt for the woman. That was one plus. Now to see if they actually had brains in their developing cranial apparatuses.

"Twentieth Chair Gero," Jericho greeted him, standing next to the couple. "Allow me to present Angie and Hatchi Zeventien. They are the two I was telling you about."

"A pleasure," Gero replied cordially. "Were you informed of your reason for being here?"

"The government is at an impasse, one that it cannot afford to be in," the woman, Hatchi, replied. "And in order to secure the future for our race, we have to assist you in swaying the Council in your favor."

A small smirk appeared on Gero's face. This one would definitely assist his and Jericho's ambitions. That was one chair in his grasp. But now he needed to see what faculties the other one possessed. Directing his gaze to the young man, he questioned "And will you two support us?"

"We'll do what it takes for progress," Angie replied.

Hmm, a standard answer. Not quite as promising as the girl, but then beggars couldn't be choosers. "Then I suppose we need to get you two caught up with the Council's current course and how it needs to change." Turning his attention to the Sixteenth Chair, he asked "Will you be handling their instruction or will you need my assistance?"

"I shall be placing Hatchi in my office for the moment," Jericho responded. "Unfortunately, I do not have any open positions for Angie. Would it be too much to trouble you to take him into your offices?"

Gero suppressed a wave of disappointment. He had really wanted the young woman in his company. She seemed to have more potential of the two. "I believe I can be accommodating," he finally answered. "Just as long as he keeps his nose out of my current experiments."

"I'm sure he will not cause you any strife."

"Very well. Come Mr. Zeventien, we have some protocols to go over. Ms. Zeventien, it was a pleasure."

Hatchi gave a curtsey. "The pleasure was all mine."

Ignoring another pang of disappointment, Gero left the group, Angie following him from behind. After several moments, the old man asked "I don't suppose you have any background in applied sciences."

"That would be a negative."

"Then I highly suggest you keep your hands to yourself when inside the laboratory. We wouldn't want anything unseemly happening to you."

"You won't have to worry about me," Angie replied coolly. "My mother always told me to not play with other people's things. For some reason they had a tendency to break around me; I'm not too sure why."

Oh, that was reassuring. "Quite," was all Gero said to that as they arrived at the doors of his lab. Opening it, he walked in with Angie trailing him, the door shutting tightly behind him. Before them stood the ever-faithful Nineteen, his hands at his sides as he gave a small bow in greeting. "Mr. Zeventien, meet my laboratory assistant, Nineteen. Nineteen, this is Mr. Angie Zeventien. He will be assisting us for the time being."

"It is a pleasure to meet you," Nineteen said, straightening out his posture.

Angie raised an eyebrow. "Is Nineteen your real name?"

"It is," Gero growled. "Now please have a seat and remain quiet. Nineteen will find you some tasks so as to keep you entertained."

Gero hadn't even bothered to wait for a reply before he set out to check the results of his ongoing experiments. Small talk was overrated and highly counterproductive.

Unfortunately, Angie didn't seem to take being ignored as well as Gero had hoped. "So, what are all these numbers and letters for?"

Scowling, Gero looked over his shoulder and found the young man standing in front of the chalkboard where his calculations for the smaller blitz cannons resided. "_That_," he stressed, "is not any of your concern."

"Oh come on, you can tell me. What am I going to do, repeat it all?"

"It is a top-secret military project and that is all you need to know."

"So it's a weapon," Angie surmised, much to Gero's growing irritation. "Not the blitz rifles or the cannons since those are obviously around. Perhaps a more powerful upgrade or a completely new design."

"Not another word, Mr. Zeventien."

"I hope it's a grenade. Can you imagine the explosion a blast of blitz power could create?"

"I said, not a…" Gero trailed off. A blitz grenade? Now that was an idea. Perhaps construction of such a weapon could get his mind off of his current failed project and allow him a fresher prospective. "Tell me, how much do you understand of the energy source of a blitz rifle?"

"Not much to be honest," Angie admitted. "But I would think that if you were to destabilize one of those power cores, you could create a nice blast."

"And how would you create such an event?" Gero inquired.

"Well, I think it would be safe to assume that the power core of a blitz rifle has a containment field to keep the energy from going haywire. If there was a device or mechanical design that broke the containment field, then that would make a nice big boom."

While he was right to assume there was a containment field, Angie was clearly mistaken on breaking it. Due to the nature of the energy being harnessed by the blitz rifles, Gero had made sure nothing could disrupt those fields so that blitz rifles weren't spontaneously exploding. It was a necessary safety precaution that had to be made in order for the military to adopt the technology. As far as he knew of, there was no way the containment fields could be breached.

Still, that wasn't something to stop Gero on this new idea. Moving to his computer, he quickly opened up the relevant files of the blitz power cores and printed them out. Picking up the papers, he then carried them over to Angie and handed them to him. "This is all of the necessary information concerning my power cores. You are very welcome to try designing these grenades of yours using these notes."

Angie had the good sense to appear humble before him. "Thank you very much, Doctor."

Once Angie had taken the notes and settled down at the nearby table, Gero immediately walked over to Nineteen and motioned him to follow. Once Gero was positive they were outside the young man's hearing range, he said "Mr. Zeventien has just dropped a very intriguing idea in my lap. I doubt he will be able to make heads or tails out of my blueprints, so I am requesting that you begin making designs for the grenade devices. We need to make sure that when inactive that they do not spontaneously explode and that there is a mechanism to trigger them."

"I will see to it, Dr. Gero," Nineteen responded.

A smirk appeared on Gero's face. "Good."

As the two made their way back to Angie, the computer screen lit up, a new window popping up. Slightly annoyed by a new distraction, Gero checked the message and growled. Oh great, an emergency Council meeting was being called. Did they really need to meet right now? He was a busy man after all.

"Is something wrong, Doctor Gero?" Nineteen questioned him.

"I'm going to have to step out for a meeting," the elderly man informed his assistant. "Keep an eye on Mr. Zeventien and make sure he doesn't cause any trouble in here. Hopefully this little circus doesn't waste any more of my time."

* * *

"What is the reason you've summoned all of us?" the Sixth Chair Silver demanded, his voice sounding quite weary. It seemed his exhaustive search for the Fifth Chair was beginning to wear him down. Though to be honest, Gero was of the same mind as well as the rest of the members. It seemed no one other than the First and Second Chairs had a clue as to why they were there.

"I hope I wasn't interrupting anything important," Red replied, a snide tone in his voice. Obviously he wasn't in the mood for demands. "But a situation has come up that requires everyone's attention.

In an attempt to keep things civil, Jericho asked "What is the situation?"

With a nod from the First Chair, Black pressed a button on a remote control he held in his hand. On the wall opposite the table, a large screen lit up. Gero glanced at it curiously. He wasn't aware that such a contraption had been in the room at any other time. On the screen, an image of a solar system appeared, a few of the planets labeled with white letters. The Twentieth Chair couldn't help but note that one of the planets was Namek.

The image then slid towards the left until the digital representation of Namek was towards the right side of the screen. Now though, a new object was being marked, something of which Gero had never seen before. Several tiny dots seemed to be converging on what looked to be a rock of some sort, an asteroid perhaps.

"This," Red began, "is a resource satellite, or so I have been told. What you are seeing is a large division of military ships approaching and docking at this satellite."

Gero ignored that last part. He was more interested in the fact that an asteroid could be used for resources. "And what exactly does this satellite supply?"

"Some sort of ore I've never heard of. That doesn't matter at all Twentieth Chair, not when that floating space rock also doubles as a military base."

Gero frowned, but took the very obvious hint to drop his inquiry. There would be another time to investigate the uses of mining an asteroid, one that he was quite intrigued to look into. For now, he had to busy himself with the mundane task of listening to whatever trivial news the military was presenting them.

"As you can see, a large presence is gathering on this asteroid and it raises potential hostilities between it and our nearest outpost, that being our base on Namek," Red continued. "There is a belief amongst our space force command that an attack may be immanent if a large enough force is gathered there."

"And what race lays claim to that rock?" Blue inquired.

"The main reason we believe there are growing hostilities," Red answered. "It belongs to the Saiyans."

A quiet hush fell over the room. Apparently that race actually meant something to these people, Gero mused. Looking towards the screen, he stared long and hard at the resource satellite, the one labeled as Onius. What ever these Saiyans were, they stood no chance against his blitz weapons—that he was positive of.

"Where is our division that is currently heading to Namek?" Gero asked.

A couple of buttons were pressed, creating a short, high-pitched sound, and the screen shifted to the right and further out until Namek was on the left side of the screen and the ship fleet was on the right. "It seems they are a few days from arriving at their destination," Black reported.

"And how far are they away from the Onius asteroid?"

Again, a few buttons were pressed and the screen moved further out until Onius was on the left side of the screen, the fleet firmly on the right. "Approximately a week's distance," Black once more announced.

"Then it would seem to me that the simplest course of action would be to have our space force alter course and head for the resource satellite."

"No! Absolutely not!" Blue bellowed. "That would only start a war between us and the Saiyans!"

"That is a possibility, I will admit," Gero said, "but the alternative is that we have a hostile force sitting at the door step of many of our troops. It would be unwise to leave them in such a precarious situation."

"You're just a scientist," Blue sneered. "You don't know what you're getting yourself into."

Before Gero could retort, Jericho spoke up. "Twentieth Chair, the Saiyan people are a race of fighters. They thrive on carnage and war. It would be unwise to provoke such a people."

"Is that all?" Gero's eyes narrowed. "They are nothing more than living, breathing organisms. The power of our blitz rifles can overcome any and all challenges they possess."

"That is a good point," Silver admitted. "The blitz rifles have proven effective against every foe we've come across."

"And what guarantee it will stay that way?" Blue countered. "If you've heard any of the stories about the Saiyans, you know as well as I do that it would be a fool's mission to brazenly attack them. You don't even know the first thing about them!"

"And neither do you—you've admitted as much."

"But at least I don't choose to go stir up a wasp's nest just because I'm feeling ornery. We have no idea what their true capabilities are, be it their weapons, or their defenses, or their tactics."

"And this is our best chance to get a good look at what their capabilities are," Gero retorted. "Look at their location; they're practically isolated from their home planet and too far away for reinforcements to provide relief. They're currently improving their defenses, which means that they are not in the best position to withstand a sudden strike. We have the upper hand if we act quickly."

Blue stared at him. "You want to use this as an opportunity to scout them out? This is practically declaring war!"

"They moved first. They're infringing upon our territory and if we do not send a signal that we will protect what is ours, they will see it as a sign of weakness. These are warriors as you've told me; if they perceive anything less than a united front from us, they may decide to further infringe upon our borders."

"At the very least, we should strengthen our hold on Namek," Jericho added.

Before Blue could respond, Red spoke up. "Send the fleet to Onius. I want another unit dispatched to Namek as soon as possible; I don't care how you do it. The boldness of these Saiyans cannot be met with passivity."

Gero leaned back in his chair, a satisfied smirk on his face as he basked in the glows of success—not to mention Blue glowering at him. It was a hard fight battle, but in the end, the Council saw that his way was best as it always was.

And as it would always be.


	11. Lose Control

They had all been gathered together, every last Namekian that could be found. There was some sort of message that was to be announced and everyone of them had to be present for it. To Piccolo, this was just another excuse for that human delegate to blow out more hot air, something he seemed to take great pride in. It was a big reason he had chosen to be towards the back of this mass grouping of green men.

Oddly enough, he didn't see Kami anywhere. It was strange since all of the humans had gone to great lengths to make sure everyone was here. Perhaps he was in another part of the group? That was very possible.

"May I have your attention, please," a loud voice rang out, alerting Piccolo to the delegate's presence. Oh great, now they were starting this announcement thing. It was about time. Rolling his eyes in annoyance, it was then that the young Namekian noticed a larger amount of soldiers around. They all seemed to be hovering at the outer edges of the Namekian gathering, each one looking towards the green people. Very peculiar.

"I have received instructions in regards to the plague that is running rampant on this planet," he heard the delegate say. Ugh, this was getting annoying. When did the humans decide they were in charge of them anyways? The Namekian people had prospered before their arrival and governed themselves adeptly. It wasn't like they needed a babysitter just so they got out of bed at the right time.

"It has been decided by the Council of Twenty that the plague has become too widespread for quarantining to be an effective prevention method. It has been decided that all infected hosts must be found and destroyed."

Piccolo paused at that, his eyes blinking owlishly. What did he mean by destroy?

The man fell silent for a moment, but thanks to his heightened hearing, Piccolo caught the next few words clearly. "Have at it, boys."

At once, the soldiers raised their weapons and fired at the Namekians. An immediate cry of shock and pain rang out as the beams bit into flesh, tearing through multiple bodies as if they were knives through butter. Dead and wounded Namekains flew into the dying ones behind them as others began to scramble away from the death beams. Endlessly, the soldiers fired their blitz rifles over and over.

A few Nameks tried to counterattack the humans, leaping high into the air as they charged up their ki. Almost immediately, several soldiers aimed their blitz rifles at them and fired, shooting several of them down. A couple others managed to fire off ki blasts at the soldiers, explosions detonating on the humans. Screams tore out of the dying soldiers as they were consumed by flames. Though successful, that only led to more soldiers setting their targets on the airborne Namekians, shooting them down in short order.

All around Piccolo, panicked Namekians were fleeing about, jostling him as they tried to get away from the shooting. The lights of the blitz beams flew above and around him, the screams of those hit ringing out into the air. Whipping his head around, the Namek tried to find a way out of this madness, catching sight of several Namekians fleeing into the air, only to be torn apart by the blitz beams.

As his eyes settled back towards the ground, a fleeing Namekian's head exploded right in front of him, purple blood flying in all directions as a blitz beam sizzled through air. The blood splattered on Piccolo, causing him to freeze up in shock.

That proved to be costly as a biting pain seared into his thigh a moment later, causing him to cry out as he fell to the ground. Shutting his eyes tightly as he hissed in pain, he slowly opened one of his eyes and looked to his leg, seeing a burnt hole going right through his leg, a few trickles of his blood leaking onto the blue grass beneath him. There was also a burnt patch of skin on his hip, but that one looked more like it grazed him rather than pierced him.

A sudden scream made Piccolo jerk his head up in time to see a Namekian's chest burst out from blitz beams, his body being lifted off the ground and falling right on top of him. The sudden force of the body landing on top of Piccolo made him cry out, especially from the jolt of pain running from his legs. Blood poured all over him as he moved his arms to push the body off of him. His efforts proved futile as another body landed on top of him, followed by another. As much as Piccolo wanted to claw his way out, the weight of the corpses on top of him were proving to be harder and harder to move, his own injury sapping his strength at the same time.

He wasn't sure when it happen, but amongst the screams and the thunderous vibrations of fleeing Namekians, Piccolo fell into darkness.

* * *

It was an inevitability of life. People were going to hate your guts, especially when you refused to stroke their egos. There were plenty of such people that harbored such a dislike to Bardock, each one rebuked by the Saiyan in some form or fashion—usually violence; it was his standard fallback.

So when Prape and his little entourage of stooges began harboring ill-will towards him, he wasn't at all surprised. Prape wasn't the first piss ant he had put in his place and he wouldn't be the last. Said piss ants never really liked it when they were forced back under the rock they crawled out from under.

However, those sorts of people were more comfortable by burning holes into him with their eyes, muttering insults about the Saiyan under their breath. So when Prape and a small group of his buddies approached him, Bardock was slightly surprised by his persistence. A much larger part felt that the arrogant Saiyan was just a bigger idiot than he had given him credit for.

"Captain, may I have a word with you?" Prape asked him as he stopped in front of Bardock, his entourage standing behind him, trying to make themselves more intimidating than they looked.

"Only if you use one word. I've got better things to do than to listen to two."

Prape clenched his jaw, suppressing his anger to the best of his abilities—not very highly developed abilities mind you. It probably didn't help that the Saiyan's nose was still crooked after Bardock had broken it. Hmm…that wasn't that bad of handiwork, if he didn't say so himself. "I have more than one word to say to you."

"Then say what you mean."

"Fine, my friends and I believe you owe me an apology."

Bardock raised an eyebrow. Well, that was a childish response. From the corner of his eye, he could see a couple of Prape's men edging their way around him, surrounding him. So, these guys were looking for a fight. Far be it from him to deny them the opportunity. "You want an apology for what?"

"My nose. You see, we believe you were excessive in your reprimand. And according to military protocol, a superior officer can and may be administered punishment by a wronged subordinate."

"So you think me breaking your nose was excessive after you went about trying to boss a superior officer? You do realize that under that same 'military protocol' I had the right to give you a much more savage beating."

That caused Prape's buddies to pause for a moment. Grunting, Bardock reached up to his face and grabbed onto his scouter. Removing it, he took a step to the wall and set it on the ground. As he straightened out his posture, he began cracking his knuckles. "If I had known you were going to be such a pansy about this, I would've caved in your face instead of merely breaking it. Obviously I failed as a superior officer and I need to rectify that."

As if that were a cue, the two Saiyans that had moved behind him leapt at him, grabbing his arms and jerking them behind Bardock's back. Tugging his arms back and forth, Bardock found their grips to be too much to simply overpowering. Baring his teeth, he looked up to see another of Prape's men approaching him, looking to beat him down while restrained. All the while, Prape had that annoying smirk on his face.

Idiots, all of them. relaxing his hands, Bardock gathered as much ki as he needed and fired twin ki blasts, the beams ripping into the sides of they restraining Saiyans. Cries of pain rang out through the hall as Bardock felt them release their holds on him. Acting immediately, Bardock leapt at the approaching Saiyan in front of him, the man froze in his tracks by Bardock's sudden move. Bending his knee, he slammed it into the Saiyan's face, causing the man to cry out as well.

However, Bardock wasn't finished with him. Grabbing the side of the Saiyan's head, he slammed the man's face back on his knee once, then twice before tossing him to aside, the Saiyan slamming against the wall and crumpling into a heap.

"That's three down," Bardock said as his feet touched back down on the floor. "Are there anymore volunteers or do I have to pick the next one of you to get your beating?"

Prape's two remaining comrades had expressions of fear on their faces. Turning around, they both bolted down the hall, trying to escape what ever fate Bardock had in store for them. They didn't get too far though as two arms, one on each side of the hall shot out, clotheslining the Saiyans as the two were flung off their feet, crashing onto the ground on their backs. The arms drew back into the walls before Shugesh and Borgos appeared, both of them raising a leg each and slamming them down on to two lying Saiyans, audible snaps being heard as their ribs were snapped.

With a wide grin on his face, Shugesh looked to Bardock. "You have all the fun, don't ya?"

"You could say that," Bardock shrugged before turning his attention to Prape. "Now that your friends are out of the way, it looks like it's your turn."

Approaching the Saiyan, Bardock saw a panicked look appear on Prape's face. Yet, the man didn't take off with his tail between his legs. Bardock had to give him some props for that, after all the guy had shown himself to be a sniveling creep in their last encounter.

However, once he got within spitting distance, Prape threw a punch at him, one that Bardock caught just as quickly, his fingers wrapping over Prape's fist. "So you do have a spine," Bardock commented before balling his other hand into a fist and swinging an uppercut, the blow landing right above the Saiyan's elbow.

A loud snap was heard followed by Prape's wailing in pain. Releasing his grip, Bardock watched Prape's fall to the ground, grabbing his arm in pain. A jagged piece of bone was sticking out of the man's arm, blood spilling onto the floor.

Stepping around him, Bardock aimed a kick at Prape's face, hitting him on his temple and causing his head to snap to a side. His screams were immediately silenced. With a disgusted look on his face, Bardock said "Another disappointment."

"No kidding," Shugesh agreed as he walked up and stood next to him. "I was hoping to see what this punk had, but he chickened out. It's a wonder how he became a sergeant."

"Very simple: he kiss-assed the right people to get a promotion. That's what all these greenhorns do nowadays."

"Is that some sore of special technique? Maybe he'll show it to us."

A hand raised next to Bardock, causing him to look to it. He found his scouter being held by Borgos. With a nod, he accepted the scouter and placed it back on. "I'd rather skip the show. Can't imagine it was anything too spectacular."

Suddenly a new voice shouted "What the hell is going on here?"

Turning around, the three Saiyans saw a newcomer to their midst. He was a tall guy, burly too. If it weren't for his dark, shoulder-guarded armor being able to stretch, you would have thought it would tear apart if the Saiyan so much as moved his arm. The symbol of the Royal Elite Guard shining from his left chest plate added more substance to that observation. Considering the color of the symbol, he had to be a Colonel at the very least.

With his tall, spiky hair waving about as he turned his head from side to side, taking the scene before him, he soon focused his attention on Bardock, Shugesh, and Borgos. "One of you, explain what happened. _Now_."

As habit, the three stood at attention. "We were having a disagreement, Sir," Bardock responded, looking straight ahead.

"Six wounded men makes for a disagreement?" the man exclaimed, the darker tint of his skin becoming flushed with anger. "You better explain yourself solider."

Well, so much for keeping this incident quiet, at least for Prape's future. "Sir, the sergeant made threatening advances to a superior officer. After reprimanding him, he made a second attempt with reinforcements. I had no choice but to defend myself."

"With two of your friends?"

"They came without my knowledge, Sir. They stopped two of the men from fleeing down the hallway after I blasted two of their friends and crushed the face of another."

The Saiyan took a few steps to close the distance between him and Bardock. "And you say you are of a higher standing than all of these men? What's your rank, soldier?"

"Captain, Sir."

That seemed to satisfy the Saiyan. "Then it seems you have a mess to clean up, Captain. Take these men to the infirmary if they're still breathing. Toss the dead ones out of an airlock. Be quick about it too as we have reinforcements showing up."

Hmm, that might explain why Bardock didn't recognize the guy. Must've arrived with a new unit that was posted here. Though why reinforcements were showing up on such a remote outpost like Onius was odd—very odd—it wasn't his place to ask for further information. Still, that didn't stop the Saiyan from asking "Reinforcements for what?"

The Saiyan looked at him heatedly. "Not your business, Captain. Now do as I've ordered or that sergeant won't be the only one lying in his own blood."

"Colonel Veges." The colonel turned his head to see another Saiyan addressing him. "Your presence is required at the docking bay," the solider informed him.

"Understood," Veges replied, saluting the solider to send him off. With a glance back at Bardock, he then said "Carry on," and then walked off.

Once Colonel Veges was gone, a sour look appeared on Bardock's face. "Just great. We have to mother these worthless pieces of trash."

"You know, we could just say they're all dead and throw them out the airlock," Shugesh spoke up.

Bardock paused at that. That would've been so much simpler and more satisfying than lugging all of these worthless pieces of crap all the way to the infirmary. There was no way for the colonel to know any better, right?

"Gyaahhhh," Prape whimpered on the floor, slumping onto his side.

The sour look returned to Bardock's face. "Toss the other five out the airlock. This one looks like he just saved his ass."

"Dibs on the airlock," Shugesh claimed, reaching around Bardock and grabbing onto Borgos' shoulder strap. "We'll take care of your new friends and you can drag the sergeant to stitch up his arm. Though if it were me, I'd just snap his neck and be done with it."

"Noooooo," Prape whined. "You…can't. You have to take me to the infirmary. Colonel's orders."

Bardock stared down at the Saiyan. Decisions, decisions.

* * *

I'm not sure I'm entirely happy with the Namek Extermination Scene. I wanted it chaotic and messy and I don't think I did a good job on that, especially since the event had been stressed in the other Battle Stain stories. Let me know what y'all think.


	12. Cloud Nine

"It's about time," Colonel Veges muttered as he stood outside the docking bay. Somehow, someway a unit of his brigade had gotten lost, bypassed Onius, and had to turn around to get back to the satellite. That pretty much made them the last unit to arrive and Veges was not in the mood for delay. He had spent enough time drifting around in space and needed to get Onius prepped for any possible attack that could come from the Earthlings. These idiots were holding up the entire process.

Watching as the first of the ships commenced the docking phase, he raised a hand to the scouter attached to his face, its blue glass screen tinting half of his vision. Pressing a button on the scouter, he then said into its receiver "Onius to bridge, this is Colonel Veges speaking."

There was a pause before the bridge of the docking ship answered "This is the bridge, Colonel. What is your transmission?"

"Mind telling me what the hell went wrong? How the heck could you have missed a giant asteroid?" he demanded.

Another paused was followed by "Our navigator put in the wrong coordinates in the autopilot. We were off a couple of degrees after leaving Vegeta and parted with the main fleet. We only found out about the error a few days ago."

Veges snarled. What kind of people were they letting into the military nowadays? A crew of hundreds didn't have the idea to check their instruments the entire flight to Onius, only bothering to look when they realized they weren't where they were supposed to be. Truly pathetic. Examples were going to have to be made, the navigator and the ship's captain being two prominent ones. Between that scuffle he stumbled upon with that captain and sergeant and already he could feel this assignment was going to be a bigger headache than it already was.

Shamoians were bustling about the room as they operated the docking equipment. A small group was gathering by the docking airlock, ready to seal the station to the ship. There weren't any other Saiyans besides the Colonel. Such menial tasked were always left to the workers, not to mention there were other, more important tasks for a Saiyan warrior to do.

It was a few minutes before a loud locking sound was heard, the docking bay locks attaching to the ship. A small tremor followed immediately as the satellite absorbed all of the momentum from the ship.

The Shamoians were very efficient at completing all necessary protocols before opening the ship and docking bay doors, Veges staring into through the doorway, waiting for his late unit to begin filing out.

Yet they didn't.

That was unexpected. As per protocol, soldiers were filed at the ship's airlock and marched out once the doors were open. In fact, you'd see several of them damn near clawing their way out the moment the doors began opening, courtesy of a frantic officer. And yet…everything was eerily different.

"Well, out with you!" Veges ordered at the open door. Many of the Shamoians came to a stop around him, flinching from the tone of the Colonel's voice. The ones over by the door had turned to look at him before edgily looking into the darkness of the door.

It was then several beams of light fired out of the door, tearing through the Shamoians instantly as they screamed. Almost instantly, chaos erupted in the docking bay as the tiny aliens went scurrying about the room, trying to flee as more light beams raced out of the ship and blew holes through them. Most died instantly as the beams ripped through their bodies, or completely consumed their heads. A few lucky ones—or unlucky, depending on your perspective—were only hit in the arms and legs, completely severing the limbs from the Shamoians' bodies. Their tiny, high-pitched voices echoed about the room. Amidst the panic, the alarms went off, red lights flashing about as they basked the room in red.

The entire time, Veges stared at the ship in awe, somehow not getting hit by one of the beams. However, his awe disappeared once he saw movement at the ship's door. It was then that several armored men poured out into the docking bay, holding rifle-shaped weapons—the source of the light beams.

So they wanted to play that way huh? Veges didn't know who these guys were, or where they got the idea to attack a Saiyan military base, but he was going to show them that they had made a terrible mistake.

Behind him, the Colonel could hear the alarmed shouts and hurried stomps of reinforcements quickly approaching the docking bay. Gathering his ki into his hand, he aimed it right at the invading troops, grasping his wrist with his other hand. Letting out a war cry, he fired his ki blast, the beam racing to its target until it collided with the men. The solders cried out as they were enveloped with flames.

Veges wasn't afraid that his attack would severely damage the docking terminal or the ship. This room was designed to withstand the impact of a military gunship cannon—it would assuredly take a ki-made explosion.

As the smoke cleared, Veges smirked at the sight of the unknown soldiers lying about the floor, smoking from the blast. There were scorch marks on the floor and walls, though the doorway to the ship was still open. He was going to need his approaching men to—

That was when another beam fired out of the ship, the beam biting into Veges' shoulder and throwing him back from the force of the attack. Veges let out a cry of pain as he fell to the floor, several more beams coming out of the ship as more of those solider began to file out.

Grasping his injured shoulder, blood seeping between his fingers, Veges looked up towards the soldiers, only to catch out of the corner of his eye another docking bay door opening, more of the unknown invaders pouring into the base.

That was when Saiyans raced passed Veges, yelling out war cries as they charged their new foes. It was about damn time too. Many of them held their arms high as they launched head on attacks while others were gathering their ki, ready to fire ki blasts.

The soldiers, however, didn't even seem frightened of these enraged warriors. Instead, they aimed their rifles right at the charging Saiyans and fired those strange light beams. Much to Veges' shock—even though the throbbing of his shoulder should have been a clear indication—the beams tore right through the Saiyans just as easily as they had the Shamoians. Cries of pain rang out into the room as many Saiyans fell to the ground like broken dolls, their blood splattering all over the place. This immediately caused a few Saiyans to fire their ki blasts, though it was clear to Veges they were holding back. Apparently they didn't have the same faith in the station's walls as he did as their ki blasts merely detonated on one soldier and killed him rather than cause a bigger explosion and kill several more.

However, it seemed none of the Saiyans realized the second arrival of invaders as they aimed their rifles at the defenders and fired on their flank. Scores of Saiyans dropped as they were pelted with the beams.

It was at that moment that Veges realized they were losing. The Great Saiyan Race was being beaten back by gun-wielding creatures. The piles of dead Saiyans amongst the ripped up bodies of the Shamoians were evidence enough to this. He…he couldn't stand it! Yet, even if he charged back into the fray, he would surely get more than just a bloody shoulder.

Veges steeled his features. He needed to isolate this room from the rest of the satellite and prevent further incursion into the base. Rolling onto his hands and knees, Veges kept low as he made his way to the docking bay room entrance. More and more Saiyans were pouring into the room, but they would only serve as cannon fodder, or so Veges assumed. They didn't understand these weapons and had no clue as to how to deal with them, not to mention his own warriors weren't even thinking of tactics. One look at the invaders showed they were lining up in formations the moment they were on the satellite. A line of soldiers were kneeling on the floor while another line stood behind them, each line firing a wall of those light beams. It was nothing more than a massacre!

Reaching the door, Veges stood up on his feet and began punching numbers into the control panel there. Immediately, the room's door slid shut, followed by heavy bolts locking into place. This was the Emergency Breach Protocol, a program that sealed off the docking bay if the walls were ever breached. Though intended to protect the rest of the base and its personnel from being sucked into the vacuum of space, it would serve the purpose of sealing off this invading force.

Of course, that prevented further Saiyan reinforcements from arriving too.

That was when Veges realized something was off. It was quiet—too quiet. Slowly turning around, the Colonel saw the corpse-filled room with the only living beings being himself and the invaders. Several of the soldiers had approached him, aiming their weapons right at the highly-ranked Saiyan.

The soldiers came to a stop. Veges growled.

With the hand hovering over the control panel, Veges summoned his ki and blasted it, destroying the panel. There, now these bastards wouldn't be able to leave the room.

A moment later and the beams ripped through Veges' body, a silent scream coming from his wide open mouth.

* * *

Brochii looked up from his clipboard and frowned at the control panel in front of him. An emergency light was flashing on and off, a small pinging sound ringing off in time with the flash.

The Saiyan was standing in the middle of the Onius control room, computers monitoring the entire satellite. There were several Saiyans sitting at various places in room, each one monitoring a specific computer panel. It wasn't often that one of the panels lit up, so it was enough to draw a lot of the attention in the room to it.

"What's going on?" Brochii asked, making his way to the offending computer panel.

The Saiyan sitting in front of it was a flurry of activity. "I'm getting an alarm activation in my sector," he answered.

Bronchii rolled his eyes. "Of course you are. What I want to know is what's causing it."

The Saiyan frowned. "It's coming from Docking Bay F." His fingers tapped several keys on the panel, the clacking of each key being press being heard clearly. "Wall sensors have detected some damage to the hull. Nothing major though, so there's no risk of breach."

Bronchii growled. Just a false alarm.

"That's odd. The Emergency Breach Protocol has been issued."

The Saiyan Officer looked at the soldier incredulously. "That doesn't make any sense." Standing behind the Saiyan, Bronchii leaned over the man's shoulder and looked at the panel's readings. As was reported, there was slight damage to a wall in the docking bay and the EBP had been activated. "Are you sure there isn't any serious damage in that room?"

The Saiyan kept up his typing, staring at the information that was flashing onto his computer monitor. "Yes sir. No major damage at all."

"Then override the protocol. Private." At this Bronchii looked to the Saiyan sitting to his right. "I want the security feed for the docking bay on Screen 1."

A moment later and a large screen above the two Saiyan workers lit up. A shot of the ship docking port from across the room appeared, the doors wide open with scorch marks. That at least accounted for the damage in the room. Yet that wasn't what caught the attention of the control room—the bodies of Saiyans and Shamoians scattered about the floor did.

"What the Hell?" Bronchii gasped. "Check the other cameras—now!"

Immediately, the picture on the screen began changing to different angles of the room, revealing more and more corpses. However, a few of those angles managed to capture some life in the room. There was a large group of oddly-dressed men standing by the door. It seemed like they were waiting for something, almost as if the door would open at any…

"Private! Stop EBP override!" Bronchii bellowed, startling the control room's occupants. "Stop it now!"

The private in question jerked his hands from his control panel as if it had burned him. That allowed Bronchii to let out an audible sigh of relief. It seemed disaster had been adverted.

Suddenly, the control panel began to flash as several lights blinked on and off in quick succession. A screen on the panel began reading off codes and information at high speeds. "Private, what the hell is going on?" Bronchii roared.

The private's fingers danced across the panel as his eyes bored into the panel. "Something's hacked into our system!" he announced. "It's running through our files and programs, trying to find something."

Bronchii looked to the overhead screen, taking in the sight of the invaders huddled around the door. There was a reason why they were there and not milling about. It was as if they were waiting to be unleashed into the rest of the base. "It's them," he murmured. "They've hacked into our computer system." Looking back at the soldiers in front of him, he ordered loudly "Shut them down. I want them sealed off from the rest of the satellite!"

Immediately, the room sprung into life. Every computer operator was accessing their terminal, trying to shut down the hacking, throwing up every roadblock they could make. All the while Bronchii watched, his eyes shooting from the operators to the screen. A helpless, violated feeling flooded his body. How the heck did these guys get in here? And how were they able to hack and access their computer systems? He had faith that his men would do their jobs and stop them in their tracks, but they hadn't been tested for such a scenario—no one in the high command had though anyone could get in a Saiyan facility.

Of all the times to be arrogant, right?

It was as his attention returned to the security feed that he first felt dread. He had caught it at the very instant the door opened and the invading soldiers began flowing out of the room. Damn, damn it all! "They've gotten through!" one of the operators cried out, stating the obvious.

Growing, Bronchii marched over to the central control terminal, ordering "Sound the alarm. Do it before the enemy manages to cut us out of our own operating system."

"Sir," one of the operator's spoke, "you don't think they could do that to us, do you?"

"They managed to bypass our EBP, so who knows what else they'll be able to do. Sound the alarm now and try to isolate them." Reaching the terminal, Bronchii found the microphone and turned it on. Taking a moment to consider his words, he then said "This is not a drill."

* * *

"Typical. Just when you get in the mood, some dick officer sounds the alarm to run a drill," Bardock grumbled.

That wasn't to say that the scowling Saiyan was ready to get down and dirty in bed as much as he was in the mood to not do a stupid drill. Really, they had one just a couple days ago. Couldn't they find something else to do rather than drag him away from his bedroom? Okay, he wasn't in his room—in the hallway outside of it to be exact—but it was the principle of the matter.

A door further down the hall swung open, the one to his room to be exact. Out stepped Fasha, her hands on her hips and an annoyed look on her face. "Just great," she grumbled, "just when I was in the mood."

Oh…someone was going to Hell sooner than they had anticipated.

Bardock's scowl deepened. "C'mon Fasha," he called out, "let's see what these idiots want us to do now." Marching passed her, the seething Saiyan made his way to the end of the corridor, Fasha following slightly behind him and to a side. Considering that the female Saiyan's footsteps were just as loud as Bardock's, it told him she was clearly as pissed as he was.

That was when the intercom came to life. _"THIS IS NOT A DRILL,"_ it announced. _"WE ARE UNDER ATTACK, I REPEAT, WE ARE UNDER ATTACK. INVADERS HAVE FORCED THEIR WAY INTO ONIUS AT DOCKING BAY F."_

Bardock and Fasha came to a stop, the two looking to each other in astonishment. "Did he say what I…" Fasha trailed off.

"Heard him say?" Bardock fished for her. "Yeah, I heard it too." Raising a hand to his scouter, he activated it, attempting to confirm the announcement. A frown appeared on the Saiyan's face as the scouter picked up several high powers, ones he quickly disregarded—those were all Saiyan power levels, not to mention they were nowhere near where Docking Bay F was. Clicking a couple buttons on the little machine repeatedly, it took longer than he would have liked to finally detected several small power levels spreading out, all of the readings much lower than any Saiyan power level would be. In fact, the only time Bardock saw such power levels was when he had checked out Kakarot's power level as an infant.

"What the hell is this?" he grunted.

"What are you seeing?" Fasha asked, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed over her chest.

"The scouter says we've got infants attacking us," Bardock answered. "I'm picking up thirty, forty of them coming from F."

The female Saiyan snorted. "_That's_ the big emergency? Who do they have guarding that place, the guy you put in the infirmary? What do we look like, babysitters?"

That was when an arrow flashed above the reading. Frowning, Bardock tilted his head up until the scouter began reading off more small numbers. "And there's about twenty more coming in from the room above." He paused. "That…that can't be right."

Fasha caught his meaning instantly. "Something's wrong, isn't it?"

Bardock steeled his features. "Fasha, go find Shugesh and Borgos. Bring them with you to the docking bays. I'm going to go see what's up."

"Got it," Fasha responded, pushing off the wall and running down the hallway behind them. Her hand was activating her own scouter as she did as she was told. In the meantime, Bardock took off down the hall in front of him. He was going to get to the bottom of this odd turn of events. Why an alarm would be activated for such weak power levels and how they got onto the satellite in such large numbers was more than puzzling. There had to be some major breakdown in their defense, some screw up a rookie had done to let this happen.

That was the only possible way he could think of.

* * *

And so it begins, the spark that ignites the war. Plenty more death, blood, and sweat to go though, so bucket up your seat belts. This is gonna be a bumpy ride.


	13. Whisper

Bardock raced down the hall. It hadn't been long since he and Fasha had separated, but the Saiyan was not alone in his travel. A few other Saiyans had joined him as they headed for Docking Bay F. At first many of them had assumed that they were in for yet another drill, but their minds had been quickly changed when Bardock flew past them. Considering he was known for being a less than stellar solider, to see Bardock charging the halls damn near automatically told them something was up.

Heh, it was one of many benefits to come with his reputation. No one asked questions when he was acting with some form of urgency.

It also helped to swell Bardock's ego somewhat to hear the thunderous sound of their footsteps. He was leading this small force of destruction into certain glory; any sane creature would flee in terror if it heard the sound of approaching Saiyan warriors.

As they turned a corner, they caught sight of another Saiyan down the new corridor, standing in middle of an intersecting hallway. He was leaning backwards, one arm extended straight in front of him, his other hand grasping his wrist. His face was twisted into a strained expression as he fired ki blast after ki blast at the unknown foe before him. Thin golden beams flew around him, one to the left of his head, another by his right shoulder, and a couple more by his legs.

Before Bardock had the chance to go join him, one of the golden beams struck the Saiyan in his chest, causing him to jerk backwards as he gave out a cry of pain. Several more of the beams then tore into him, ripping his body apart as he fell to the floor a bloodied corpse.

"Holy shit," Bardock gasped out as he froze in his tracks. What the hell was that? Those beams had looked like ki blasts, but if the scouter was right about the power levels of this invading enemy, no way should a Saiyan be killed as brutally as he was. Even now, the scouter only indicated power levels in the single digits.

That was when two of the invaders appeared by the body. They were dressed oddly in what appeared to be black spandex, their torsos covered in a thick, grey, metal armor. Their helmeted heads turned to look at them and one of them shouted "There!" On cue, they both raised rifled-shaped weapons, their grey-gloved fingers pulling the trigger on their rifles. Instantly, the golden beams fired from the barrels of their guns.

Reacting instantly, Bardock flung his body back into the hall he had exited moments earlier, his back slamming into the Saiyans behind him and forcing them back into the hall. Unfortunately, one Saiyan had been standing on the other side of Bardock and had tried to take cover with the rest of his kind. Those beams ended his attempt quickly as one beam penetrated him in his gut, the other right through his head. Blood exploded out of the back of his head and back, his pain-filled scream echoing into the hall.

Staring at the bloody mess, Bardock was faintly aware of one of the Saiyans murmuring "Garl," in a disbelieving, sorrow-filled voice. Then his rage overcame him with a vengeance as he shouted "You bastards!"

Shoving past Bardock, ki blazing around his right hand, the Saiyan damn near leapt into the intersecting hallway and unleashed his ki blast at the enemy, the halls taking on a blue shade from the beam. Two screams were heard before an explosion nearly threw them all off their feet. Smoke rushed passed the enraged Saiyan as he held his ground, his face twisted by anger.

The moment everything settled down, Bardock barged up to the Saiyan to berate him. Taking a look down the hall, he clearly saw two bodies lying on the grown, large chucks of their upper torso blown off and scorched by burns. There was a hole in the wall at the very end of the corridor, the hole opening into a room Bardock wasn't sure of its purpose. Still, if this idiot had used any more ki, he could've penetrated all the way to the hull of this asteroid they were on. If luck was against them, they would all be swept out into the void of space to die and Bardock wanted absolutely nothing to do with that.

However, his reprimand died on his lips the moment two more of the unknown soldiers appeared the end of the hall, their weapons already aimed right at them. Bardock only had enough time to dive behind the other Saiyan as he was blasted by the deadly beams. A sharp, burning pain tore into Bardock arms as he felt one of the beams graze his left bicep. Bearing his teeth as he fought the urge to cry out, he found himself drifting out behind his Saiyan shield, right into the line of fire from the invaders. They were standing one in front of the other, the one in the back off to the side. It was because of this that Bardock saw the front soldier move in front of the back solider to get a better shot at him, the back soldier pulling his gun up so as not to shoot his own comrade. Even as the dead Saiyan in front of him fell on top of Bardock as his own body hit the ground, that little action delayed the enemy from finishing him off.

Immediately, Bardock shot his right arm out, two of his fingers extended out and pointing right at the soldiers. A quick gathering of ki allowed him to fire a thin beam at the invaders, the attack piercing the front soldier in the chest before he could get a shot off as well as the soldier behind him. They both let out screams before they fell to the floor dead.

Out of the corner of his eye, Bardock saw the other Saiyans moving towards him. "Stay back!" he roared, causing them to jump back startled. As he laid on the ground, his lower body covered by a corpse, Bardock activated his scouter to confirm the presence of any other invader. When it indicated that they were alone, the Saiyan gave the all-clear and allowed a couple of the other Saiyans to help pull off their dead comrade, the rest moving out to inspect the rest of the battleground.

As one of the Saiyans stared at the damage done to the Saiyan bodies, he asked out loud "How the hell did those weapons cause this kind of damage?"

Climbing to his feet, Bardock only offered a quick glance at the holes in their comrades before turning his attention to his own injured arm. It was a bit bizarre he had to admit—the wound wasn't like anything he had seen before. What ever that beam was, it had cut his arm where it had touch him, the edges of the wound slightly singed. Some blood was trickling out as well. Grimacing, he charged his hand with ki and pressed it against the wound, hissing as he burnt himself. Due to the strangeness of the injury, Bardock wasn't sure how long it would take to heal, so cauterizing it was a quick, temporary solution. There were more pressing matters to attend to than to take his chances with a small wound.

"There's no way it should be possible," another Saiyan remarked. "My scouter said their power levels were incredibly weak, like fives and sixes. No way should a five be able to take down a Saiyan with over a thousand power level."

That was a good point and one Bardock couldn't refute. Still, he had heard of some warriors being able to hide their power levels. Perhaps these invaders could do the same until the moment they unleashed their power? But those rifle-like weapons immediately casted doubt on that conclusion. If they were able to control their power like that, then they wouldn't need to have those guns. Something wasn't adding up. "Did any of you keep your scouters on during that exchange?" he asked.

The two Saiyans looked at Bardock and nodded their heads. The first one spoke up "Yeah, and my scouter didn't pick up any fluctuations in their levels."

And there was another nail in that theory. "None of this is making sense," the second Saiyan added frustrated. "The scouter should be able to pick up on any change in their ki and that includes any ki blasts they use."

Bardock's head jerked back. Why hadn't he noticed that? "They're not using ki," he declared.

All of the Saiyans stopped what they were doing and turned to stare at him. "The scouters detect the amount of ki a person has and any derivative of that ki. Since they didn't detect any ki usage, that means these weapons aren't powered by ki at all. They have access to some other power source we can't detect."

Falling back into his thoughts, Bardock wasn't aware of the others as they began to discuss his theory or went back to their investigations. The Saiyan was too consumed with the possibility they were fighting on even ground with infant-leveled enemies. It was damn near insulting. Yet, Bardock couldn't think of any other possible explanation for what he had just seen.

It was then that one of the Saiyans removed the helmet of one of the soldiers Bardock had killed. The Saiyan stared at the humanoid features of the man before calling out "Hey, does anyone know what this guy is?"

The group of Saiyans, Bardock included, walked up to the unmasked alien, crowding around him as they looked at him. It was a full second before Bardock backed off. He never did have much luck at telling apart humanoid races from each other, his own being the lone exception. Everyone was equal in his eyes, especially after they lay dead at his feet. What was the point in trying to get to know a corpse?

"It doesn't matter what he is," Bardock grunted as he turned away from the body. "There's more of his kind on this rock. We can ask questions after they're dead."

That was when the comm. link on Bardock's scouter interrupted their conversation. "Captain, respond. Captain, respond."

Automatically, Bardock pressed the comm. button and answered "I'm here. What do you need?"

"We've detected another ship approaching Docking Bay H. Do you have any men with you?"

"Yeah, I've got a few of them. You want us to go guard H?"

"Affirmative. You're the closest unit we have to H and we have our hands full with the enemy forces already on base. Keep them off of Onius."

"Copy that. Consider it done. Should we be expecting reinforcements?"

There was a short silence before "Negative. Consider yourself on your own. We'll try to route some of our forces to your location, but don't count on it."

Ugh, that was not the answer Bardock wanted. Regardless, he sent an affirmation of his order and closed the link. Looking to the Saiyans around him, he then informed them "We have more invaders on their ways. We've been ordered to hustle over to Docking Bay H."

"Sir!" Without further questions, the group of Saiyans took off to the hallway to their left. It was a few more twists and turns, but they found their way to Docking Bay H and just in time to watch a ship come to a jarring stop, latching onto the docking port.

"Spread out!" Bardock ordered. "Find cover. When these bastards start coming out, blast them to hell. And watch out for those beam guns of theirs. If they get even one good shot at you, it's over for you. Use thin blasts. We don't want to risk blowing a hole in the wall."

Wordlessly the Saiyans dashed into the docking bay, taking cover behind large metal crates that were scattered about the room. Bardock remained outside the bay door, pressing himself on the wall next to the doorway. He was not going to let a single one of these creatures out of that room if he could help it.

"I see one!" a voice suddenly shouted, causing Bardock to jerk his head to a side, seeing one of the invaders at the end of the hall pointing right at him. Instinctively, Bardock shot an arm up, two of his fingers extended and firing a ki blast at him. The beam blew a hole through the man's armored chest, the man crying out as he flew backwards through the air, falling to the floor shortly after.

Unfortunately he wasn't alone as two more of the soldiers appeared then, shooting wildly at the Saiyan. Quickly, Bardock flung himself into the docking bay, his hand moving for the control panel next to the door and typing in the command to shut them. The door slammed shut a second later, the locking mechanism sounding off with a loud click.

That was when another set of doors open, specifically the port doors on the opposite side of the room. Swinging himself around, time seemed to slow down for Bardock as he saw more of the invaders come running into the docking bay, their guns held at shoulder level and aimed right at him.

Fortunately his comrades decided to have some competency this time as a couple of them immediately began firing ki blasts at the invaders, picking them off one shot at a time. As the other Saiyans began to get into the action, Bardock dove towards a nearby metal crate. He wasn't gonna let these humans get a free shot at him if he could help it.

It was then that the sounds of dying men and firing ki blasts came to an end. Peeking around his metal protection, he stared at the port door, waiting for more invaders to come. Yet, none came.

"Was that it?" he heard one of the Saiyans ask. For a moment, Bardock thought the guy would stand up and scratch his head out in the open. That thought proved incorrect fortunately as every Saiyan warrior was firmly behind their cover.

Yet, that guy should have never spoken that loud. Hitting his comm. button, he said "Keep on guard. There's plenty more of these guys in there. No way did only a handful ride in on that ship."

Suddenly, an explosion went off, causing Bardock to jerk around. That blast hadn't come from where the enemy was, but at the entrance to the room. As he looked at the bay entrance door, he saw the door collapse inward into the room, letting in a rush of smoke.

"Oh shit," he cursed.

That was when three soldiers rushed into the room, firing their weapons. Their beams immediately found targets in two surprised Saiyans, the warriors dying instantly as their chests and heads had holes burns into them.

Letting out an enraged cry, Bardock threw his arm out in front of him, firing a ki blast. An explosion rang out as the three soldiers were incinerated, their screams being consumed by the blast.

Unfortunately, that proved enough of a distraction to allow several of the ship's inhabitants to charge out, taking refuge behind a stack of barrels. As soon as they were sure they were protected, they began taking fire at the various crates. Seeing as there weren't any cries of pain, Bardock figured the beams couldn't cut through metal. That was a small comfort.

That was when one Saiyan moved to fire at the soldiers hiding behind the barrels. The moment he had his hand aimed right at his target, a beam was fired from the port door, blowing off the Saiyan's hand. The Saiyan let out a scream as he stared at his bleeding stump, grabbing his forearm as if it could take away the pain. That allowed one of the hiding soldiers to take a free shot at him, nailing him in the head as the back of his skull burst with an explosion of blood.

"Damn it all," Badrock roared from his cover, facing the docking bay entrance in case more soldiers appeared. They couldn't afford to keep losing men as fast as they were. How many were even left now? "Status report," he ordered into his scouter's mike.

All he got in return was three confirmations. Was that all that was left? Just four of them? Oh, this day was getting better. Not even a handful of them were left to hold off a ship's worth of invaders who had weapons that could kill them. That wasn't even including the ones already on Onius who could attack them from their rear. Add in that they were effectively on their own with no reinforcements coming and you had a lovely cocktail of a bad situation.

More of those strange beams began to fire from overhead and to the side of Bardock's cover. It seemed the invaders were laying out a cover fire so that more of them slip out of their ship. At least that prevented some of their comrades from attacking from the bay entrance.

That still didn't make Bardock feel any better about their situation.

_To hell with this._ "Kill them all!" Bardock shouted. "I don't care how you do it, do not let them any more of them out, you hear me?"

In answer, a few explosions rang out as his remaining Saiyan trips unleashed several ki blasts at the enemy. One of the blasts enveloped the barrels, causing an even bigger explosion that rocked the room. Oh, were those filled with fuel? How fortunate.

The sudden tactic caused the beams to cease for a moment. Taking the opportunity presented to him, Bardock leaned out from his cover and fired a blast right through the port door and into the enemy ship. Flames and smoke shot through the door a moment later. The other Saiyans also began firing into the other ship then, unleashing blasts that kept Bardock's scouter flashing through various numbers as it tried to calculate the strengths of each blast.

For a moment, Bardock wondered if they had managed to breach the hull of the enemy ship. Surely with the power they were putting in their blasts, one of them would have puncture a hole in it, right? Being as they weren't feeling a suction from the ship, the Saiyan had to say no. Huh, perhaps they weren't using strong enough blasts or the ship's hull was tougher than he thought it would be.

And just as sudden as their attack was, an onslaught of beams appeared out of nowhere, but not from their front or back. These were coming from their flanks! How the hell did they get there?! Desperately pushing himself up against his metal crate, Bardock threw both of his hands up and fired a ki blast in both directions, hoping to hit something so that he wouldn't be hit. Being as he wasn't getting pelted with beams seemed to tell him he had made the right decision as he heard the screams of the other Saiyans ring out. One…two…three screams. Oh great, now he was alone. Oh this was just getting better and better.

The sound of approaching footsteps diverted Bardock's attention again, just in time to see four more of the invaders burst into the room, their guns raised at shoulder level. And as was Bardock's current string of luck, the barrels of their guns were trained on him the moment they saw him.

"Damn it all!"

Suddenly, a ki blast ripped through one of the soldiers' chest, followed by several more blasts in the other soldiers. As their bodies fell, Bardock saw Borgos standing behind them, a large gash on his forehead leaking out blood, but not looking any worse for wear. "Oh thank Kami," Bardock said before rushing towards Borgos, just as several of those beams came flying from the flanks again. Once outside, the two Saiyans took off down the hall, Borgos leading the way.

"Fasha finally found you," Bardock stated as the corridor flew by them. All he got was Borgos nodding his head before taking a turn into a new hallway. "Works for me," the smaller Saiyan muttered before he took the turn himself. However, before he completely made the turn, he raised and arm and fired a ki blast down the hall, just in time to hit a couple more of the invaders as they left the docking bay. He could hear their cries as they were consumed by the explosion.


	14. Never Go Back

The Earthlings had stacked the broken bodies of the Namekian people into one mountainous pile. At first they had been neat, orderly even. Eventually they had settled into tossing the bodies one after another on top of each other. Arms and legs and torsos were tangled with each other, the ones that had those body parts anyways.

Yet at the top of the pile, one of the bodies began twitching. The twitching became more profound, shifting the body until it rolled off the top and down the pile before it settled into a new spot. Where the body had been now revealed a hole going deeper into the mountain of corpses. From the hole an arm shot out before falling back down on top of another body. The fingers latched onto the far side of the corpse, the muscles of the arm contracting and relaxing. Soon, a head emerged, large veins visible due to the physical exertion as well as being covered with trails of dried blood.

Grunting, Piccolo called upon as much strength as he had left and continued to pull himself out into fresh air and freedom. He would have let out a louder grunt had he not been afraid of attracting possible attention from any nearby guards. He had come too far to be caught now, not when he was almost free.

And then all resistance disappeared. With his last vestige of strength, Piccolo hauled himself out, rolling over the body he had been grabbing until he came to a stop on his back. The Namekian panted loudly, his arms and legs spread out as his chest rose and dropped with each breath. One of Namek's three suns glared down upon him. His clothes were ripped and torn, courtesy of blitz beams and the wear and tear of digging through broken bodies. Dried, purple blood tainted his green skin and the remainder of his clothes. Piccolo had no idea how long he had been under there—sometimes it felt like an eternity under there. The leaking flesh, sticky blood, shattered bones, and the hot, suffocating air—it was like hell on Namek. Was on Namek.

There had been times when he thought he would have never gotten out of that pile. Yet something, something within him kept pushing him. At first it was just survival, the drive to not die by being crushed by the weight of countless bodies. To not suffocate from the lack of air. Desperation mixed with fear was a strong cocktail to struggle for survival.

But now Piccolo was worn out, too exhausted to move further. A stray thought wandered through his head, one that suggested he should just lie there and let the world just go on without him. He had nothing left, be it energy, motivation, family, his race. If the Earthlings were intending on killing every single person of his race off, then he wouldn't have a planet or home left. An outcast into the vast expanse of space. That was life as he knew it.

No! No it wasn't! These people, they had taken everything from him! Noooo, he wasn't going to settle for this, not when the culprits should be punished. His people deserved justice, his family avenged. His brother…oh Kami, his brother.

Fresh rage boiled within Piccolo's belly. His face twisted in anguish and fury. They would pay for that, all of them would pay. He didn't care how long it would take, he would kill as many of these despicable humans, even if it cost him his life.

_They will pay._

* * *

Prape glared at the doorway of the infirmary. Stuck in bed with an arm sealed inside of a cast, the Saiyan sulked in his dark thoughts. That asshole of a Captain had put his career trajectory on stand-by with this latest incident and during a point in time he could have been making an impression on Colonel Veges. If there was anyone on this stinking rock to make a good impression with, it was Veges.

Instead, the Captain had gone and broken his arm, then told the Colonel that Prape had broken protocol. And he said he wouldn't have said anything! That liar! That rat! It was only a matter of time now before an official reprimand was issued and he could damn near kiss his rank good-bye.

"I'll get that son of a bitch," he growled as he shifted on his bed mattress, trying to get into a more comfortable position. "If he thinks I'm going to take this lying down, then he has another thing coming…"

"Ugh, would you shut up?" one of the other Saiyan's shouted from one of the other beds. There weren't many beds in the infirmary mostly because it was believed no Saiyan would seriously hurt himself while serving a post here. The door to the room was on one side with two beds situated on the opposite side. Three beds lined the other walls each. There were only two other Saiyans here besides Prape and neither of them had endeared themselves to the Sergeant. What their injuries were, Prape didn't know and didn't care to know about. There should have been a couple of his friends here too, but the Captain's friends had jettisoned them into space because they were too lazy and without honor to do the respectable thing and bring them all to the infirmary.

And when Prape got out of this crappy hospital bed, there would be vengeance paid in full.

Not even deigning the other wounded Saiyan a response, Prape just plunged deeper and deeper into his dark thoughts.

That all changed when the alarm went off, causing the infirmary's occupants to jolt in their beds. "_THIS IS NOT A DRILL,"_ an intercom announced loudly. _"WE ARE UNDER ATTACK, I REPEAT, WE ARE UNDER ATTACK. INVADERS HAVE…"_

Prape' anger served with renewed strength. This was just perfect, an invading force had decided to attack and instead of being out there showing off his skills, he was stuck in this bed because of that Kami-damned Captain! Seriously, could his situation not get any worse?

Almost as if to confirm him thoughts, the door to the infirmary swung open, revealing several men dressed in strange, dark clothing holding even stranger rifles in their hands. "What the he—" the Saiyan that had spoken up before exclaimed before the rifles were pointed at him and fired golden beams, beams that tore right through man.

Prape's eyes shot wide open as he saw the wounded Saiyan jerk back in his bed and his head tilt to a side, clearly dead. As the invaders turned their weapons on the other wounded Saiyan and killed him just as easily as the first, Prape threw his one good arm up and let out a war cry as he fired a ki blast at them, the blast incinerating the men on impact and exploding in the hall less than a second later.

As smoke rushed into the infirmary, Prape stared through the smoke-filled doorway. Because of that, he caught the sight of two more soldiers diving into the room, rolling on their backs until they came up on the heels of their feet, their rifles pointing right at the Saiyan.

Instantly, Prape rolled off his bed before the rifles were fired and the golden beams pierced his mattress. Managing to land on his back and keeping his casted arm from harm, Prape once more fired a barrage of smaller ki blasts at them, his attacks nailing the soldiers in the chest and sending them flying backwards with cries of pain. One of them hit the wall and crumpled into a heap of dead body parts as the other flew clear through the doorway, Prape losing sight of him.

Instead of waiting for more soldiers to come in and try and finish him off, the Sergeant aimed his good hand at a nearby wall and blasted it, creating a large hole. Scrambling onto his feet, Prape dashed through the hole and into the smoke-filled hallway beyond it. Not even bothering to stop, the Saiyan took off down the hall, not sure where he was going. Just as long as it wasn't here.

* * *

Just when Bardock thought Borgos had no idea where he was going, the two of them ran into Fasha, Shugesh, and a few other Saiyans standing guard by the barracks. "It's about time we got here," he muttered as he and Borgos came to a stop before them, the other Saiyans immediately looking up to them and relaxing. And if Bardock wasn't mistaken, some of them seemed glad to see him.

"You sure took your time getting here," Fasha remarked as she placed her hands on her hips and stared at him, her eyes giving him a good once-over for injury. "What have you been up to?"

"Trying to keep the enemy from boarding at Docking Bay H. That didn't go so well," Bardock said. Crossing his arms over his chest and leaning up against a wall, he nodded his head towards Borgos and said "If it wasn't for Borgos, I'd be dead right now."

"What the hell?" Shugesh exclaimed, more out of frustration than surprise Bardock noted. "I thought the scouters had to be malfunctioning or something. No way should such low-level rock-pounders be able to hurt, let alone kill a Saiyan warrior."

"You had your own run-in?" Bardock asked as he looked to Fasha, the female Saiyan nodding her head in confirmation. "So you noticed how their weapons are able to kill men thousands of times stronger than them."

"That was kinda hard to miss," Fasha replied sarcastically. "Weirdest thing is that the scouter—"

"The scouter doesn't pick up on them firing their weapons," Bardcok interrupted. "That's cause they're using another power source other than ki. Don't even bother asking me what it is cause I have no clue."

"Who cares?" Shugesh retorted. "The only thing that matters right now is that we kill these rock-pounders and get them off Onius."

"Anyone know the status of any other units?" Bardock asked.

One of the other Saiyans piped up—a Private 1st Class if Bardock wasn't mistaken. "It's chaos everywhere, Captain. We've got guys running into battle and getting slaughtered. The Control Room got overtaken once the Earthlings got a foothold and spread—"

"Earthlings?" Bardock snapped. "How the hell do you know that?"

"Because I was there," the private explained. "A lot of them were claiming the base under the control of Earth and that we should surrender."

Bardock scowled. So these were Earth's warriors. No wonder they were able to take down the Martians and Plutonians. Their weapons would've caught them by surprised and with ruthless efficiency eliminated any other resistance. So this was how they declared war.

"So they already have Onius taken over. Just great."

"We have to do something about it," Shugesh declared. "They can't get away with this!"

"What exactly do you think we can do?" Fasha retorted. "We're getting picked off like fish in a barrel."

"Hold your horses," Bardock replied. "We can't just charge in recklessly. We need a plan first."

"And what do you suggest?" one of the other Saiyan's asked.

Bardock was silent for a moment. The odds weren't in their favor, that much was obvious. If they went charging in head first and thinking they'd do some serious damage, they could very well get themselves killed—not a prospect he liked. Also, there was a swarm of these Earthlings in the base and there was only…three, four, five…seven…nine of them here. They weren't going to cause much damage, especially if the Earthlings had good aim with their odd weapons. From Bardock's recent experience, they did. Even when there were only two or three of them, they managed to take down a Saiyan warrior with ease. They were grossly outnumbered, outgunned, and time was not on their side. That only left one reasonable option.

"These Earthlings want war," he finally spoke. "And the entire Saiyan race is gonna give it to them. But we won't be able to win if the rest of our race doesn't know the potential danger in front of them. These Earthling weapons have decimated us, no denying that." Sighing, he spat out the words that tasted bitter as they left his tongue. "We have to abandon Onius."

"Retreat?" Shugesh gasped in revulsion. "How can you even think of such a thing?" One glance behind the large Saiyan told Bardock that the others felt the same way, not that he blamed them. He even hated the mere thought of retreat and hated more that he had to even suggest it.

Yet, it had to be done. "There are more important things than pride to worry about. We have to warn the rest of our people the threat these Earthlings pose. Just look what they did to us on this floating rock. Can you imagine what they could do if they were on Planet Vegeta, or some other planet? The military wouldn't know what hit it the first few battles and by the time they adjust, too many of our brethren will be dead."

The Saiyans were quiet until Borgos of all people spoke up. "He's right," his deep, grumbling voice agreed.

"Oh, we must be in deep shit if Borgos is actually talking," Fasha quipped. "And Bardock hasn't ever led us astray. As much as I hate it, I'm with you on this."

The rest of the Saiyans fell silent, each one slowly succumbing to their dire situation. However, they didn't have the time to lick each other's wounds. Now was a time for action.

"We can't try to take one of their ships," Bardock began, "They'll have guards in every docking bay. And the moment we even pull the ship out, they'll release the other ships and hunt us down."

There was a short silence before one of the other Saiyans spoke up. "Unless we shut down all the docking bays except the one we use. If we cut the power, there's no way they could launch their ships."

"And you are?"

The Saiyan looked taken back for a moment before he answered "Arugus, Sir."

"Okay, do you know where we cut the power to the docking bays?"

"The Control Room would be the obvious place, but as Rhubega said that room is in the Earthlings hands. We'd have to go to the Maintenance Room instead."

"Why the hell would we go to the Maintenance Room?" Shugesh demanded.

"Cause there's a maintenance panel there. We could have complete control over what parts of the base has power or not."

"You have to be kidding," one of the other Saiyan's said incredulously. "There's a panel outside of the Control Room that controls this floating rock? Why?"

"It's a backup system incase the Control Room experienced a power outage or a virus shut down all of our computer systems, Shalt. Every system has a backup failsafe system," Arugus explained.

"And it's our best idea to go off of," Bardock added. "Okay, we need to send a team down to the Maintenance Room to shut off the docking bays, probably even the Control Room just to be safe. The other team can go secure a ship or at least find a docking bay that has the fewest ships in port. We want to make our escape as easy as possible."

"What if we fail though?" Shalt asked. "I mean, we have to get word to our people that the Earthlings are here. We can't do that if we fail."

"We could hedge our bet," Rhubega responded. "We could send out a communication back to Vegeta just to make sure they have some sort of Intel."

"That would definitely help," Fasha agreed. "But the only place that would do that is the Control Room right? That's where all communications with Onius goes through. With the Earthlings here, they'd definitely be focused there."

"And we can't just send everyone to either the Maintenance Room or Control Room," Bardock added. We'd be making too much noise and would definitely need a quick exit. That makes three teams: one to the Maintenance Room, one to the Control Room, and one to the Docking Bay."

"Then that's how we'll have to do it," Fasha replied.

Looking at the other Saiyans, Bardock saw none of them outright disagreeing with the plan. So be it then. "Okay, Rhubega? You know how to send a communication to Vegeta right?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Good. Shugesh and Borgos, you two go with him to the Control Room. You're gonna protect Rhubega until he gets the message out. Once he does, haul ass to one of the docking bays. Fasha, take Shalt and…" Bardock trailed off, staring at a nameless Saiyan.

The Saiyan picked up on the pause and supplied his name. "Zuchin, Sir."

"Zuchin," Bardock repeated before continuing, "And go find us a ship. Once you find it, radio everyone which bay it is and lay low. The moment we cut power to everything, launch an attack to get the ship and hold it until the rest of us arrive."

Just as Bardock looked at the last two remaining Saiyans, the last nameless one said "Legash."

"Right, Legash and Arugus will come with me to the Maintenance Room. We'll be shutting down as much as Onius as possible to drive these Earlthings crazy." Looking to Shugesh, Borgos, and Rhubega, he said "That means you guys need to have that communication sent before then. If everything starts shutting down before you get a chance to, bail out and head to where Fasha is. Got it?"

All of the Saiyans straightened out their posture, standing at attention as they said "Yes Sir!"

"Good. Let's get to work."


	15. Oceans

Fasha stood outside of Docking Bay K—well, to be more precise she stood down a hallway from K, hiding around the corner of an adjacent corridor and staring towards the bay. She and her two flunkies had already been to two other docking bays and neither one was favorable to their needs.

"Cover me," Fasha whispered before stealthily heading down the hall to the docking bay entrance. She was faintly aware of Shalt and Zuchin keeping their distance behind her, making sure no one snuck up behind them. As she closed in on the bay, she saw another hallway crossing right in front of the closed doors, a couple of metal crates sitting against the wall of her hallways, just in front of the intersection. Quickly, Fasha hid behind them and activated her scouter.

Okay, there were some power levels inside of the bay. There wasn't anyone in the nearby halls, so the only potential threat to her was inside the bay. She wasn't up to a full scale attack at the moment, so going inside the docking bay was not an option for her. However, the computer outside of the bay would tell her everything she needed to know about it.

The computer was built into the wall right outside the docking bay. Steeling her nerves, Fasha dashed over to it and began typing on the keyboard below the monitor. _C'mon, c'mon_ she impatiently fretted as information flashed across the monitor. Finally, she found what she was looking for. "Two ships," she murmured as she read about which airlocks were in use. Damn, had to go find another one.

Looking to Shelt and Zuchin, she jerked her head down the perpendicular hallway and quickly hurried down the left corridor. The two Saiyans quickly followed her, constantly keeping a lookout. Neither one of them said a word, though Fasha wasn't against their silence. Considering they didn't want to be discovered just yet, it was better they kept silent. Also she didn't feel like talking to them. She got the feeling they weren't only looking out for enemy soldiers.

Hmm, perhaps she should've been the one watching their backs.

It was fortunate that this part of the base wasn't being patrolled. Considering there weren't many other corridors or rooms to take cover around here, the three of them were sitting monkeys for any wayward soldier to spot. Just the thought of them getting caught raised the hair on the back of Fasha's neck. She did _not_ want to end up a corpse this soon into their operation.

It wasn't long before they reached the next docking bay, Docking Bay L. Unlike K though, the entrance was wide open, causing the Saiyans to slow down their pace and press up against the wall just outside the door. Automatically, Fasha checked her scouter and found there wasn't anyone inside of the docking bay, their first good news of the day. Slowly, the female Saiyan edged her way to the entrance and peeked inside. From what she could see of that position, all of the airlocks were closed. Sticking her heard further into the door way, she looked to the opposite side of the room and found one of the airlocks wide open.

Jackpot.

"Okay you two," Fasha addressed her lackeys. "We found our ship. Take cover somewhere and lie low. I'll inform everyone else of our escape point. Do not attack until we're ordered, got it?"

The two Saiyans nodded their heads in acknowledgement before moving off to find hiding places. As for Fasha, she looked down a hallway that intersected with her current hallway and ended at the docking bay entrance. Moving down that hallway, she came to a stop several feet away from the entrance and looked up. There she found a vent, exactly what she was looking for. Floating up, she fiddled with the vent opening before swinging it open. Poking her head in, she found a long ventilation duct big enough for her to fit in. Smirking, she floated her way in, bending herself over as she moved into the duct. She angled herself and maneuvered her legs into the duct behind her and straightened them out once she was completely in. Still floating, she moved backward through the vent, floating over the vent opening. Reaching down, she grabbed the grating and pulled it back, closing it with a soft click. Floating back a little more, Fasha finally lowered herself down onto the cool metal duct and made herself comfortable.

Once she was settled with a good view between the grating bars, Fasha reached up and activated her comm. "Fasha to all points," she whispered. "We have found our ship. Rendezvous at Docking Bay L; I repeat, Docking Bay L."

* * *

_"Rendezvous at Docking Bay L; I repeat, Docking Bay L."_

"Looks like we got our ship," Shugesh smirked. "That's one less thing to do."

The large Saiyan and his comrades were just outside the Control Room. From what their scouters told them, there was a large unit of Earthlings here, the room teeming with them as well as a guard unit patrolling the halls leading up to its entrance.

This was not going to be easy.

"How do we get in there?" Rhubega asked as he glanced at the doors to their destination from their hiding place. That place was a room just down the hall from the Control Room, one they had to make their own entrance into it. That's right, they blasted their way in, just the way Shugesh liked it.

"Ain't no way we're getting in without them noticing," Shugesh said. "I say we blast our way in there and hole up inside until you do what you need to do."

"But that's suicidal!" Rhubega protested. "We're trying to survive here, not get ourselves killed! And sending that message without those Earthlings trying to kill us is our top priority!"

"Then what do you think we should do to get in there?" Shugesh shot back. "In case you haven't noticed, they got that damn room armed to the teeth."

"Well…" Rhubega murmured, obviously without a plan. "Umm, I don't know."

"That's what I thought. We're at war here, Half-pint, so don't have any crazy ideas that we're all gonna survive this. Someone's gonna die. And it's not like we can just lead these guys away from that room."

Rhubega's head shot up at that. "Wait, we could do that!"

Shugesh blinked his eyes. "Do what?"

"What you just said! One of us could launch an attack and then lead as many of those Earthlings away from the Control Room. The last two can then get into the Control Room and take care of any others left behind."

Shugesh smirked. "So you do got a brain. Alright, who's the bait?"

"Well, it can't be me," the smaller Saiyan said. "I'm the one that has to send out our message, so I guess that leaves you or Borgos."

Shugesh looked to Borgos, who looked right back at him. So one of them was gonna have to take one for the team huh?

"Then I'll do it," Shugesh said, looking back to Rhubega. "You just make sure you get that message off. Borgos can hold them off for as long as you need, but you damn sure better get it off."

"R-right," Rhubega stuttered in reply.

"And don't even bother waiting for me. The moment you get that message off, you and Borgos head towards Fasha and the others. If I manage to make it out of this, I'll head that way too." Then with a cheeky smile, he looked back to Borgos and said "You know what to do, right?"

Borgos nodded his head solemnly.

"Hey, don't give me that look. I'm about to make our race proud. Now step back ladies, it's time for a real Saiyan to show you what a warrior looks like."

Pushing his way passed the two Saiyans, Shugesh walked right into the hall and turned to face the control room. "Alright you Earthling scum, eat this!" Shugesh shouted as he threw both of his arms out in front of him and fired a ki blast.

The blast rushed towards the Control Room, detonating on the door as a roaring explosion consumed all of the nearby soldiers. Grinning, Shugesh then turned and took off down the hallway, making sure to make as much noise as he could. What was the point of being bait if the enemy didn't follow you?

However, that was when three soldiers suddenly appeared at an intersection further down the hallway. At first they looked alarmed, looking for the source of what had caused the previous explosion. Not giving them a chance to realize that he was the reason for their alarm, Shugesh immediately threw his left hand up in front of him and rapidly fired several ki blasts at them. Two of the soliders went down from the first barrage of blasts, the third one lucking out as the first few ki blasts missed him. Dropping to a knee, the solider raised his weapon and began returning fire.

Jerking from one side to another as he dodged the soldier's beams, Shugesh gathered more ki than before and fired a larger blast at the Earthling, this one finally killing the man as he let out a scream of pain.

That was when more of those strange beams suddenly flew from behind the Saiyan. "Ah crap," Shugesh muttered as he increased his speed, reaching the corridor the three soldiers had appeared out of and dashed into it. Shugesh was a very big target, so those soldiers wouldn't miss him forever.

Once safely out of sight, he gathered more ki once more and waited until he heard the pounding of heavy footsteps approaching him. Grinning, Shugesh threw his charged up hand back into the hallway and fired his blast down the hall. Another explosion followed by a tremor rocking throughout the corridors told the Saiyan his attack had hit something; the screams of more soldiers told him more had also been killed.

Again, Shugesh took off down the hall. Though he personally preferred taking these guys down headfirst, he had a job to lead as many as he could after him. This hit-and-run strategy would have to do for the time being. Not that it would take away from his joy of killing those Earthlings though.

* * *

"Those idiots," the officer seethed. "How the hell did they let a Saiyan get so closed to us?"

They hadn't been expecting a sudden attack. They had the Control Room firmly under their control. A few glitches aside, everything had gone according to plan. They had boarded the enemy stronghold, caught many of them by surprised, and had taken over crucial areas. Naturally there would be pockets of resistance, but none of it should have been around where a heavy concentration of soldiers was. It was a breakdown on someone's part and they couldn't afford a slip-up like that so soon after their conquest.

There were currently five of them left in the Control Room. Everyone else, including the guards outside, had gone in pursuit of the Saiyan, leaving the rest of them to maintain their foothold in this room.

"They had better bring back that monkey's head," the officer continued to mutter.

They were all spread out about the room, keeping their eyes on the computer panels and monitors. Anytime they caught sight of a Saiyan or any damage to the base's structure, they'd send out strike teams to investigate and put down the Saiyan menace. Aside from a few hiccups, they had been very successful in this.

One of the soldiers standing near the door suddenly perked his head up. Frowning, he left his panel and walked to the door, looking through it. The officer saw this and stared at the soldier. "What is it?" he called out to him.

"I thought I heard—" the soldier started to say before a beam tore into his chest and exploded out his back. With a cry of pain and surprise, the soldier flew backwards and crashed on one of the computer monitors.

Instantly, the other soldiers had their blitz rifles up and aimed at the door. "Shoot anything that comes through! Anything!" the officer barked out as he took aim.

Yet, nothing came barreling into the room. Seconds ticked by, causing each soldier to slowly grow anxious. There was someone out there, most likely a Saiyan. What was taking it so long to attack them?

Suddenly a strangled cry filled the room, causing everyone to turn away from the door. Towards the back of the room, the largest Saiyan the officer had ever seen held one of his comrades off the ground, the man's arm twisted at an odd angle. With one of his large hands, he grabbed the soldier's neck and squeezed hard, an audible crack being heard. The soldier's body went limp immediately.

_How the hell did that thing get in here?_ the officer's mind roared with panic. Seriously, how the hell did a Saiyan that big get into this room with the only entrance being covered? Somehow he had slipped right past them all and killed the guy in the back of the room without anyone being the wiser.

Although the officer had hesitated, his other two comrades didn't as they began firing their blitz rifles at the Saiyan. Unfortunately, they only managed to get a couple more shots off before more beams flew into the room and hit each soldier in the back, killing them instantly. That only left the officer as the last man standing.

Whipping around back to the entrance, the officer saw a smaller Saiyan standing at the door, both of his hands held up and aimed at where the soldiers had been standing. Before the officer had a chance to react, something big and powerful slammed into the side of his face, causing his head to whip to a side and his body to crash into the floor. Immediately, the feeling in the officer's body vanished, a numbness taking hold of him.

At the edge of his vision, the officer could see a blackness begin to grow, slowly extending to the center of his sight. Lying on the floor, the officer could see the smaller Saiyan rush to one of the computer panels and begin typing something. "Cover the door, Borgos!" the Saiyan shouted to his companion. Well, that's what the officer thought the Saiyan said, the actual words being very muffled and fading into silence.

What ever other consciousness the officer had gave out then as darkness completely consumed him.

* * *

Bardock pressed himself up against the wall, his head turned to a side. He could hear the approaching footsteps of one of the Earthlings just around the corner, each footstep growing louder and louder. Patiently, the Saiyan bided his time until the barrel of the soldier's weapon appeared in his sight.

Instantly, Bardock's closest hand shot out and grabbed the weapon's gun barrel. Slowly, he twisted his hand down, the squeals of bending metal reaching the Saiyan's ears as he bent the barrel down. Once it was pointed to the floor, Bardock swung himself around the corner, seeing the soldier staring dumbfounded at his ruined weapon. With a feral grin, Bardock balled his other hand into a fist and swung it at the soldier, hitting the man right in his chest plate. The armor couldn't withstand the force of Bardock's fist and ripped open as the Saiyan's hand plunged into the Earthling's body.

With a strangled cry, the soldier released his grip on his gun and grabbed onto Bardock's arm weakly. Not giving the man anymore attention, Bardock looked over the dying soldier's shoulder and saw his comrade a few away, aiming his rifle at them.

Immediately, Bardock lowered his stance, hiding completely behind his Earthling shield. Keeping his eye on his current enemy, he saw the soldier moving his gun from one side to another, trying to get a better shot at the Saiyan. It was just as he thought: these Earthlings wanted to avoid shooting their own comrades. A noble thought, but one that Bardock would exploit to its fullest.

Grunting, Bardock pushed off the floor and drove the barely-conscious man in front of him backwards and crashing him into the other soldier. The other man gave a cry as he was knocked off his feet and fell to the ground. Bardock and his dying shield fell on top of the soldier, the Saiyan pinning the man with his comrade.

With his other fist, Bardock raised it over his head and let out a war cry, swinging it down and slamming it into the man's face. A loud crunch was heard followed by a spider web of cracks emerging on the floor beneath the man's head. Seeing both men's eyes glazed over, Bardock stood up, pulling his fist out of the top man's body. Red blood dripped from his hand as he held it before him, giving the Saiyan pause as he stared at it. Emotionlessly, he jerked his hand down, caused blood to fly off his hand and splatter on the floor and partially on the wall behind him.

"Clear," he called out to his comrades, the other two Saiyan's with him appearing soon after. Looking to Arugus, he then asked "How much further to the Maintenance Room?"

"It's just down the hall," Arugus answered, pointing. "There will be a left turn and the first door to the right leads us right to it."

"Good, I was getting tired of all this sneaking around," Bardock grumbled. Cautiously, the three Saiyans moved down the hall. It had been awhile since they had heard Fasha's announcement and still hadn't heard any word from Shugesh's group. Seeing as they were closing in on their destination, Shugesh and co. were gonna have to pick up their pace if they wanted to get that message out before they shut everything down.

They soon reached the end of the hall, seeing it take a left turn just as Arugus had described. Taking the turn, they soon found the door they were searching for and opened it. Behind the door was a metal stair case that led downwards.

Bardock scowled and looked to Arugus. "You didn't mention the stairs."

"I-it's not that far a-after this," the Saiyan stuttered in response.

"How…much…farther?"

"There's a long hallway with several splits," Legash answered. "We don't have to take any of the turns, we just have to reach the very end of the hall."

"And that's where the maintenance panels are?"

"Yeah."

"And you know this how?"

"I worked down there a few times."

Ugh, he should've been listening to Legash instead of this guy. "Fine, let's go." Moving forward, Bardock led the way down the groaning metal stairs, making the Saiyan's annoyance grow further. He hadn't been expecting such a long trek to this maintenance place. Sure, he had been counting on the fact it would take them longer than any of the other groups to get where they were going, but seriously, at the rate they were going the others would have completed their tasks by now.

Soon enough, they reached the bottom of the stairs, finding themselves in a long corridor covered with metal pipes running along the walls. At various points the pipes turned at ninety degree angles and disappeared into new hallways. Following Legash's directions, Bardock walked down their current hall, ignoring any of the other halls as he went. The lighting in here was crap, each source giving off a dim light that barely fought back at the shadows down here. It was fortunate that their only path was straight because it would be a pain trying to navigate these halls in the dark.

Eventually, the three came to the end of the corridor, finding a large metal grating cover hanging from the wall. From in between the tiny holes the grating mesh made, Bardock could barely make out the panels they were searching for. About damn time too.

"Alright you two, get to work," he ordered as he backed up, letting the two Saiyan's slip by him and approach the metal grating. However, before either of them could make a move to open it, a faint whooshing sound reached Bardock's ear, followed by a long, thin pipe flying right by his arm and impaling Arugus in the back.

Arugus let out a pained scream as he fell to his knees, gripping the pipe sticking out of his chest as his blood dripped from it. Whipping himself around, Bardock caught sight of a ki blast rushing towards his face. Reacting instantly, he moved his head out of the beam's path, the beam flying right by his face. However, Legash was standing right behind him and took the blast right in the face, the Saiyan screaming out as he was flung back and slammed against the metal grating. He crumpled to the floor shortly after.

Growling, Bardock looked down the hall and saw their attacker. Standing down the hall was Prape, one of his arms raised up with his hand glowing with ki. For some reason, neither arm was bounded by a cast, something Bardock found odd considering he had personally broken one of them. On top of that, the Saiyan looked out of his mind as he stared at the wild-haired Saiyan, a wide smile on his face.

Then in a sing-song voice, Prape said "I…found…you…"


	16. My Last Breath

And we have entered another new year. What better way to celebrate with a new chapter? The story is coming to an end very soon, like immediate future soon, so prepare yourselves.

Happy New Year y'all.

* * *

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Bardock growled as he faced Prape.

"You and I have a score to settle and I'll be damned if I let these invaders settle it for me," the Saiyan leered.

Rage covered Bardock's face. "You're here over a grudge?" he roared. "You sniveling infant! Do you have any idea what's going on around you? Pull your head out of your ass and look, damn it!"

Prape gave him a crooked smile. "This comes first. You've insulted me, humiliated me, and even killed my men. Starting now, I'll reclaim my honor."

Bardock snorted. There was no reaching this idiot. Words were useless now. "I should've killed you when I had the chance," he growled.

"Yeah, you should have. And I'll make sure that's the last mistake you'll ever make."

Prape fired the ki blast he had ready, the beam racing towards Bardock. Crossing his arm in front of him, the Saiyan swung it out and backhanded the attack into the wall next to him. An explosion rang out as the wall disintegrated, sending out smoke that separated the two fighters. A violent tremor shook the corridor and most likely the upper floors.

Instinctively, Bardock jumped backwards, the back of his foot coming into contact with the wall behind him. Ignoring that, he watched as Prape exploded out of the smoke cloud between them, swinging a fist right where Bardock had previously been standing.

His face twisting with rage, Bardock let out an enraged war cry, throwing his own punch that collided with Prape's face. Instantly, the Saiyan was sent flying away at a high speed, the smoke parting to either side of him, allowing Bardock to see all the way down the hall. Using a burst of speed, the Saiyan disappeared, reappeared a small distance ahead of Prape's current flight pattern. Waiting, Bardock allowed his opponent to collide with him, his right arm immediately shooting out to wrap around Prape's neck. With his hand grabbing the bicep of his other arm, Bardock tightened his choke hold on his foe, causing the Saiyan to gasp out for air as his arms shot up to try to remove Bardock's hold.

Drawing back one of his legs, Bardock sent it flying forward, ramming his knee into Prape's back. Prape let out a cry of pain as a mouthful of blood exploded out of his mouth. Pulling his leg back again, Bardock rammed it even harder into the Saiyan's back.

When he heard Prape give out a pain gasp for air, Bardock released his hold, dropping the Saiyan to the floor. However, his opponent didn't fall too far as Bardock grabbed the back collar of the man's armor, his fingers disappearing in between the armor and the Saiyan's back, and pulled him up. With his other hand, he grabbed onto the bottom of the armor and lifted Prape clear off the floor. Twisting his body around, Bardock let out another yell as he arched his opponent over his head and swung him down headfirst to the ground. The floor caved beneath the two Saiyans as a spider web of cracks reached out from the impact zone.

Releasing his hold, Bardock straightened out his posture and watched as Prape's lower body tilted down and finally land on the floor. Walking to his opponent's side, the Saiyan stared as the sergeant laid on his back, making weak attempts for air.

Scowling, Bardock lifted up one of his legs and slammed it down on Prape's shoulder, an audible snap being heard as well as Prape letting out a blood-curling scream of pain. Instinctively, Prape reached over with his other hand to grasp his shattered shoulder.

Casually, Bardock moved to stand just above the Saiyan's head and lifted his leg up again, repeating his previous action on Prape's other shoulder. Another, slightly weaker scream echoed out.

Kneeling down then, Bardock shot out a hand and clamped it over Prape's mouth, smothering his screams. "I don't take pleasure in putting a dying dog down," he said matter-of-factly. "Especially when that dog is nothing but a mongrel that should've been dealt with a long time ago." Lifting up his other hand, he crossed it over his body as his fingers straightened, his thumb curled into his palm. "Consider this mercy as long overdue."

With a quick swipe, Bardock cleanly separated Prape's head from the read of his body, a spray of blood shooting up and sprinkling the Saiyan's face. Some blood had even managed to cling onto Bardock's hand, flying off of it as soon as his action ended and splattered on the floor and wall. Standing up, Bardock held Prape's upside-down head at eyelevel, staring the glazed over eyes. Then with a snarl, Bardock tossed the head over his shoulder and began walking back to the maintenance panel. There was still some unfinished work to do.

* * *

Shugesh was hurt. Not in the "I can't move any further, I'm killing as many people as I can" sense of the word. It was more of an "I'm limping my injured ass around and killing as many people as I can" kind of hurt.

Those beams had done a number on him. There had been several close calls, mostly grazes, but those left very pointed stinging sensations all over his body. What was worse was that one of the beams had cut into the shin of one of his legs and another had left a hole right through the thigh of the other leg. That left Shugesh limping as much as he could down hallways, constantly firing ki blasts behind him.

And just to top it all off, he was running out of ki.

Limping down his current corridor, Shugesh kept swinging his head to look behind himself with every gimpy stride he took. The sound of his ragged pants echoed up and down the corridor, filling the Saiyan's ears. There weren't any of those soldiers from what he could see, but he knew they were going to be rounding the corner behind him soon enough.

Suddenly, a beam ripped into his shoulder, causing Shugesh to cry out as he fell backwards to the floor, landing on his back. Letting out a few gasps of pain, Shugesh slowly raised his torso up, seeing a couple of Earthlings appearing further down the hall, one of them aiming his gun right at the Saiyan. "Damn it," Shugesh grunted out. He hadn't expected the Earthlings to try and get ahead of him. A stupid mistake on his part. However, he wasn't going to let this latest turn go without punishment.

Gathering as much ki as he could spare, Shugesh forced it up his throat and felt his neck expand. Opening his mouth, he roared before he fired a ki blast from his oral cavity, the blast racing down the hall and detonating on the soldiers. Their screams were music to his ears as they died.

That was when more beams flew from behind him, a few of them tearing through his chest. One even ripped off an upper part of the Saiyan's head as blood exploded out of him. Letting out a strangled cry, Shugesh collapsed on his back once more, this time guaranteed not to be getting up again.

As he laid there, his body growing colder with every passing second as more and more blood pooled at him, Shugesh couldn't help but say out loud "I guess…I won't be making it…Bardock…"

And then Shugesh let out his last breath.

* * *

"And sent," Rhubega said aloud as he sent out the message with an emphatic press of a button. Aside from Shugesh having to lead a bunch of Earthlings around the satellite, everything had gone without a hitch.

Borgos was over by the door, keeping a close eye on it. While Rhubega had been typing out their communication to Vegeta, the large Saiyan had barricaded the doorway by ripping out the other computer stations and piling them on top of each other. Everything had been silent over there, so that made their goal that much easier to complete.

"Okay, how do we get out of here?" Rhubega asked as he looked over to Borgos.

Before the large Saiyan could answer, the lights in the room suddenly went off, the sound of the computers in the room slowly deactivating with a collective whine. Looking around alarmed, the reason for the sudden blackout came to Rhubega a moment later. Bardock and his team must've just turned off the power to the satellite. He and Borgos had just barely beaten him in their mission. What luck!

A moment barely passed after that when an explosion suddenly blew apart the barricade apart, sending Borgos and the computerized machinery flying to the other side of the room.

Jerking his head to look, Rhubega saw the Earthings swarming to get inside the Control Room, their guns held up by their shoulders as they searched about for targets. Immediately, Rhubega shot an arm up and fired a ki blast, the beam racing towards the invaders and exploding on them as they screamed. The Saiyan began to let out short yells, punctuating each one with a ki blast. Flames and smoke covered the doorway.

And it was because of that flame and smokescreen that Rhubega missed a small canister come bouncing into the room until it stopped clashing against the floor and began rolling on it, coming to a stop a moment later. Then with a loud bang, a bright flash struck the Saiyan, making him cry out in pain as he shut his eyes tightly. It was as if his eyeballs were being burned out of his skull. A pounding ringing echoed in his ears, effectively blinding and deafening him.

That was when the Earthlings stormed right into the Control Room once more, their guns being repeatedly fired. Their beams flew around Rhubega before one struck him in the shoulder, followed by another one through his chest. With a cry, the Saiyan fell to the floor, grasping his new wounds in pain.

A loud roar rang out and Rhubega watched with half-lidded eyes as Borgos came rushing at the Earthlings, an arm raised and ready to fire a ki blast. As one, every Earth solider turned their weapons and fired at Borgos, the Saiyan dropping instantly as he was torn apart by the beams.

Rhubega squeezed his eyes shut as pain wrecked his body, his breathing becoming labored. Faintly, he could hear footsteps approaching him, yet he didn't bother opening his eyes to look. He knew what was coming. Felt the presence of one of the Earthlings next to him.

And finally the searing pain of a beam burning through his head.

* * *

Bardock raced down the hallways, heading towards Docking Bay L. He was hoping he hadn't inadvertently turned off power to the bay, since that was their escape point. Since Fasha hadn't radioed him, complaining that he had screwed up, the Saiyan took it as that the bay was still operational and Fasha and her men were currently in the midst of taking it over.

The moment Bardock had left the Maintenance Room, he had used his scouter to check on the other teams. He had just barely caught the signal of one of Shugesh's group dying as their power level vanished. Considering he couldn't detect two other high power levels and the Saiyan had to assume that the group had been completely wiped out. He was gonna miss those two.

But not right now. Fasha's group's power levels were still high and active, so that meant they were on the move. The sooner Bardock got to them, the sooner they could get off this Kami-forsaken rock.

Surprisingly, Bardock hadn't run into any of the Earthlings so far. It was strange, if not a bit concerning. He had been expecting a flood of soldiers rushing towards Docking Bay L. After all, when Saiyans attack something, they're very loud about it. That noise would have alerted them to their presence and the Earthlings would have done what ever they could to squash them out.

That was when the Saiyan heard the soft murmurings of voices up ahead. Perhaps he had spoken too soon. Checking the Onius map on his scouter, he found that he was closing in on L. So that meant the soldiers were outside the docking bay and not expecting an attack from the rear.

Perfect.

Slowly down his pace, Bardock began creeping as quietly as he could down the hall until he reached an intersecting hallway. Peeking around the corner, he saw a hoard of Earthlings crowded around a doorway. That had to be L. And since none of them were looking in his direction, it seemed Bardock had the jump on them.

He was going to love this.

Charging as much ki into his arms as he could, Bardock stepped right into the middle of the hall and held both of his hands out in front of him. Letting out a loud war cry, the Saiyan fired a large ki blast, one that filled most of the hallway from floor to ceiling. Bardock heard the screams of the Earthlings as they were incinerated by the blast, a very violent tremor shaking the base once his blast detonated on a wall on the far side of the hall.

As smoke rushed towards him, Bardock lowered his arms, taking deeper breaths to calm his body down. Perhaps he had overdone it a bit. With that large smoke cloud filling out the corridor, he couldn't even see where the docking bay entrance was, not to mention if there were any more soldiers hiding. A novice mistake, he reprimanded himself.

But he couldn't dwell on it for long. Steeling his nerves, the Saiyan charged into the smoke coming to a stop the moment he found the doorway to the docking bay. Dashing into it, Bardock exploded out of the smoke to find a room full of chaos. Towards his right was an open port entrance, the one that Fasha had to have been at. All around the room was a scattering of large metal crates and on the side opposite the open port door were Earth soldiers.

And most of them were staring right at him.

"Ugh, crap," Bardock growled to himself before launching himself at the closest Earthling, closing the distance between the two of them with a burst of speed. Bending his arm, the Saiyan swung it up, the bottom of his forearm slamming underneath the soldier's chin. The man's head snapped back instantly, followed by an audible crack that indicated that something else had snapped too. _My, my, these Earthlings have fragile bodies._

That attack awoke the other soldiers from their daze as they trained their guns on Bardock. Ducking down behind the nearest crate, a barrage of those beams flew by him, several of them hitting the other side of his cover while others hit the wall behind him.

That was when Bardock heard a ki blast being fired, a small explosion erupting as another invader was killed. However, when another blast didn't follow, Bardock frowned. _Only one blast? That can't be good._ Checking his scouter, the Saiyan couldn't help but scowl. The device was only detecting one power level and an injured one at that.

However, due to his focus on his scouter, he didn't hear the pounding of several footsteps behind him. On the other hand, he did _feel_ the searing pain of a beam running through his left shoulder. Letting out a cry, Bardock instinctively spun himself around and fired a ki blast at his attackers. The resulting explosion and screams told him he had hit his attackers.

"Dropping my guard in a freaking battle. What the hell, Bardock?" he chided himself. Damn it, what the hell else could go wrong today?

Suddenly, a ball of pink energy shot up towards the ceiling of the docking bay, coming to a stop before it made contact. The ball hovered there for barely a moment before it exploded into several smaller balls, each ball falling to the floor and detonating.

Oh good, Fasha was still alive. He could recognize that attack from anywhere. Though the resulting explosions were smaller than what he was used to, Bardock took the opportunity it gave him to race towards the ship.

Unfortunately, the attack didn't wipe out all the Earthlings and they began returning fire on him the first chance they could. Even more unfortunate, their counterattack occurred before he could get into the ship, so Bardock had to take cover behind a couple metal crates.

That was where he found Fasha and boy had she seen better days. She was leaning back against the crates limply with a crap ton of blood pooling around her. She was barely able to tilt her head so she could look at him. "About…time…you showed…up…"

"Kami, Fasha, what happened?"

Her eyes drifted back to look in front of her. Following her gaze, Bardock saw the bodies of the other two Saiyans, both of them lying right out side the entrance to the ship. "Those numbnuts…didn't check their scouters…ran right into all these Earthlings…"

She paused to take in a pained breath of air before letting it out in a loud gasp. "Shalt…got hit. Sent Zuchin into the ship…to clear it out. Shalt and I…held off the Earthlings. When Zuchin got back…got hit and went down. Told Shalt to get in the ship…he got hit again on the way. I then tried…didn't get far…"

Bardock let out a dismayed sigh. "We really messed this up, didn't we?"

"No choice…"

Taking a deep breath, Bardock said out loud "We'll find a way to get you on that ship—"

"No!" Fasha spat out. "I'm deadweight. You…you need to go. Now."

Bardock grimaced at that. There wasn't any point arguing with her; she was right. "Well, just so you know, out of everyone on this asteroid, you were my favorite."

"Gee….I wonder why…"

A small smile appeared on his face. Reaching out, Bardock cupped Fasha's cheek with his hand, Fasha leaning into his touch. It was almost a foreign act for him; the last time he had shown someone comfort like this was when he watched his wife die. It was the least he could do for Fasha. "Tell Seripa I said hi."

Fasha looked at him through half-lidded eyes. "I'll tell her…you miss her…"

Ugh, sappiness. Oh how he loathed sappiness. But considering which person was dying here, Bardock just nodded his head in acceptance. Fasha's eyes closed then and her body slumped shortly after.

Bardock bowed his head in silence for a moment. It was the least he could do for a fallen comrade, though she wouldn't be dead if these assholes hadn't shown up. That was when anger welled up him. No way was he letting this go without punishment.

Moving his hand from Fasha's face, he began concentrating his ki into it, feeling his power gathering slowly. Soon, his hand was enveloped by blue, swirling energy. Oh yeah, that's right, he was bringing in the big guns.

"Alright you pieces of crap," Bardock growled, "I've had just about all I can stand of you."

Pushing up to his feet, he drew his ki-laced arm back, even as the Earthlings fired more of their beams at him, a couple tearing into his sides. As he threw his attack, he shouted at the top of lungs.

"THIS ENDS NOW!"


	17. Bring Me To Life

The Council had ended mere moments ago, yet Gero still could feel the satisfaction of success running throughout his aged body. Jericho's plan had been performed to perfection and the Seventeenth, Eighteenth, and Nineteenth Chairs had been filled without fail. Although there had been much protestations from the Third, Sixth, and Eighth Chairs, Red had ultimately sided with Gero and Jericho, calling in the two men's selections for replacement and sworn them in.

"We are one more step closer to our goal," Jericho stated, a small smile on his face.

Clasping the taller man's shoulder, Gero replied "Do not misjudge the significance of that step. History will remember us fondly for what we are about to accomplish."

"We'll see. Now if you'll excuse me, there is a matter I must see to. I hope we can meet up later to consider our next step."

"Come see me when you finish with your business. The rest of my day is open."

Jericho nodded his head in affirmation. "Until we meet again." And with that, the giant man walked off, heading to his office no doubt. Gero merely turned away from his ally and headed down the hall towards his own laboratory. Angie and Nineteen would be delayed as they were saddled with their new responsibilities. Though Nineteen would return to the lab once he was finished, Gero would be all alone with his work.

"Not so fast Twentieth Chair."

A scowl appeared on Gero's face as he came to a stop at an intersecting hallway. Turning around, he saw Blue storming up to him, his face twisted in rage. "Now what do you want, Third Chair?"

"You must think you're so clever," the blond man snarled, "Thinking you could circumvent the electoral process with this stunt of yours; you're much lower than I had ever thought you would be. I don't know how you managed to convince the Sixteenth Chair to join you in this madness, but rest assure I will not stand for this."

"I don't know what you are talking about," the old man retorted. "This was Sedici's idea, not mine. If you have a problem with this legitimate procedure, you can take it up with him. Now be off with you, I have more pressing matters to attend to than trading barbs with a troglodyte."

"This is not over," Blue threatened. "I will end you, old man."

"Do not make threats you are bound to be unable to keep." Gero and Blue stared each other down before the younger man turned around and walked back the way he came, Gero turning into the intersecting, stone-made corridor and making his way down it. already, plans were forming in the old man's mind—one specifically to remove the Third Chair from his side. That man would prove most aggravating if he were left alone. Reaching the end of the hallway, he turned into another one, making his way down that one before turning into another.

"That didn't seem too friendly."

Was everyone trying to annoy him today? And everything had been going so well too. Coming to a stop, Gero saw the relaxed form of the Seventh Chair leaning against the wall, her arms crossed over her chest. "You needed let such trivialities concern you, Seventh Chair."

"Sometimes I can't help myself," Violet replied as she looked at him bemused. "Unlike Blue, I can appreciate the Sixteenth Chair and yours power play. I wish I had thought of the same myself."

"If there's a point to this, make it quick," Gero snapped. "My patience is already thin."

"I was hoping you wouldn't be too affronted if I copied your move. You see, I also have a friend that would benefit from your procedure; though unlike the people you and Jericho introduced, I know my friend is very qualified for the role. He's been waiting for a chance to get on the Council you see."

Gero did not like the sound of that. It seemed the Seventh Chair was not too proud to use underhanded methods. It was a mistake to assume she would keep to herself. Still, perhaps he could turn this into his favor. "I would very much like to meet this friend of yours, you know, to see if you are correct in your assertion of his qualifications."

"So you can have patience when you want to. I recommend that you force some more on yourself then. You'll get to meet him when everyone else does."

_Impudent bitch!_ Staring at the woman coldly, Gero said "You don't want to play hardball with me, young lady."

"Oh, unlike Blue back there, I know not to take you lightly," Violet reassured him. "Not many people reach your position without leaving some collateral damage behind. I was just giving you a head's up as to my intentions. Make of that what you will."

"The courtesy is appreciated," Gero gritted out.

"Chin up, Twentieth Chair, the game is only becoming interesting," Violet smirked at him before pushing herself from the wall and walking around the old man. "May the best man or woman win."

Oh, so she wanted to play in his league huh? The twat, she had just forfeited any chance of victory merely by showing him her hand. "I believe you mean just beginning."

Violet stopped as she turned her head to look at him over her shoulder. "What makes you think we haven't already been playing?"

Gero's mighty brain came to a stop at that. That was too good of a point to not consider. If her claim held merit, then their meeting here was just another move she had made, one that did not have the significance that he originally held for it. Or maybe she was just trying to rattle him—yes, that had to be it. No way had someone like her had been trying to play him for so long.

Yet, the fact that her ploy initially worked was concerning in and of itself. She wasn't someone to be easily angered by petty insults. It seemed that Gero had found a more appropriate opponent, one that seemed to be more skilled than Blue—though Blue wasn't exactly that hard to topple.

So consumed by this thoughts, the old man never noticed the Seventh Chair's departure. Absentmindedly, he began walking once more to his primary destination. It wasn't long after that that Gero arrived at his lab. Entering the room, he made his way to his computer and activated it, absently checking any messages he may have received.

Checking the first message, a satisfied grin appeared on his wrinkled face. Finally, some good news for a change. The Saiyan base Onius was now in their control. There had been some resistance from the Saiyans stationed there—something that was expected—but they had fallen into chaos and were easily dealt with, just like Gero had expected. Truly, his blitz rifles were a thing of magnificence. Now if only those half-wits on the Council would acknowledge their greatness, everything would be perfect.

There was also a small note about a ship managing to leave the base at one point, but Gero hardly cared. One ship of Saiyans fleeing the satellite meant nothing in the grand scheme of things. In fact, this would only serve to push up the old man's time table. Earth was going to have to do battle with Vegeta sooner or later and he was of the opinion that it should be handled with sooner rather than later.

It was then that he heard the door to the laboratory open, followed by it closing. This caused Gero to frown. Had Nineteen returned so soon? Why? He shouldn't be back for another hour. Moving away from the computer, the old man made his way to the door.

The moment he reached it, a loud bang filled the room as pain exploded through Gero's shoulder. Letting out a scream, the old man fell to the tiled floor, grasping his bleeding shoulder. Craning his neck to look behind him, his blue eyes filled with rage as he saw the proud form of Blue standing a small distance away, a haughty smirk on his face.

"I told you this wasn't over," the blond man commented. "But you didn't listen to me. You never listen to me."

"How _dare_ you enter my laboratory!" Gero roared, turning his body over to look at the man with rage. "I'll make you regret—"

Blue began to laugh hysterically, interrupting Gero's threat. "You'll do no such thing. After all, wasn't it you who said not to make threats you would be unable to follow through? I wasn't planning on doing something like this, but after hearing your arrogant words, I couldn't help myself."

Gero's eyes narrowed. "So you followed me?"

"Not that I had to. Everyone knows where your lab is. I merely made a stop at my office to properly prepare for this encounter."

"So you're going to what? Shoot me? That won't stop anything, you fool!"

The barrel of Blue's gun dipped down before he fired it, Gero screaming again as the bullet tore through his knee. "Believe me, what ever you have set in motion can and will be stopped. Without you driving it, it will be a cinch to tear it apart piece by piece."

Gero gritted his teeth as he hissed in pain. It couldn't end this way, not when he was so close. The future of Earth was at stake—didn't this idiot understand that? No, he was too busy handling some petty vendetta! Gripping his bloody knee, the old man tried to think of something, anything that would stop this injustice.

"Do you feel that?" Blue said as his eyes twinkled with sadistic satisfaction. "That's the feeling I felt when you usurped me, slowly eating away at my rightful place on the Council. Though you drug out my fall from grace, I will at least extend to you the mercy of a swift death. It is what a proper gentleman would do."

_No. No!_

As Blue raised the barrel of his gun higher, aiming it right at Gero's head, he bidded "Scianara, Old Man."

That was when the doors of the lab swung open and Jericho marched in. "Twentieth Chair?" he called out as he strode through the doorway. "I have…"

The giant man's words died on his lips when he saw the sight of Blue standing over Gero. For a moment, it was as if time itself had screeched to a halt. "What is the meaning of this?" Jericho demanded.

Immediately, Blue turned the gun on the Sixteenth Chair. That action resulted in Gero feeling some relief. At least he wasn't on Death's door, though he was more like a step to the side of it. The situation was still bad, but it was not as dire as it was a moment earlier.

"You weren't supposed to be here!" Blue cried out. "Stay right where you are!"

Jericho slowly raised his hands in front of him, trying to calm the Third Chair down. "We can talk about this," he said in a soothing voice. "Just put the gun down and we can rationalize this like civilized men."

"Civilized!" Blue bellowed. Jerking a finger and pointing it at Gero, he roared "That is not a civilized man! He is a devil that must be stopped!"

Gero resisted the urge to refute that claim considering that this latest development seemed to be draining what was left of the Third Chair's rational mind. One wrong word could send him over the edge and the old man was more inclined to let Jericho be the one to say that word.

Slowly, Jericho took a step towards Blue, coming to a halt immediately. "No harm has been done that is not irreversible," he said calmly. "We can still work something out—all you have to do is lower your gun."

_No harm?_ Gero fumed. He had a destroyed knee and a damaged shoulder; if those weren't considered harm being done, then he didn't know what was!

Another step closed the distance between the two standing men. "Listen to me, Sedici," Blue gritted out, "I have to stop this man; _we_ have to stop him. Because if we allow him to continue on his current course, the fate of our race is at risk! He'll doom us all for his overinflated pride!"

Another step. "But violence _never_ solved anything," Jericho rebutted. "It is never the answer." And another step.

Due to the Sixteenth Chair being a very tall man, it had blessed him with a set of very long legs; legs that had allowed him to cover the distance between the laboratory door and where Blue stood in a very short time. The man was now standing before the Third Chair, reaching out slowly with one of his hands and placed his palm in front of the gun barrel, easing it downward. "We can work this out," the man murmured softly.

For a moment, it seemed like Jericho's words had reached Blue. However, a steely determination wiped that away as he pulled the trigger, a booming gunshot echoing throughout the room coupled with Jericho's screaming in pain. Jerking his hand back and gripping it at the wrist with his other, there was a large, bloody hole in his palm, blood pouring out of both sides of his hand.

That was when Blue threw a punch right into Jericho's face, leveling him as the giant man fell to the floor. Lifting up a leg, the blond man rained down several stomps on the fallen man's body. "You won't trick me!" Blue screamed out in rage. "This is your fault as much as it is the old man's! You unleashed him and _now_," here he paused as he pointed his gun right at Jericho's head, "_You_ must pay for your transgressions!"

It was then Gero noticed a sheath at Blue's side. He only saw this because Blue reached down to his belt, where a sword handle stuck out of the sheath. Grabbing it, the blond man pulled out a thin, polished sword and held it in front of him. With one of his feet, he pushed aside Jericho's injured hand and then pressed the bottom of his boot on the fallen man's other arm. Making sure he was steady, Blue then raised his sword above his head before he swung it down.

A loud scream tore from the Sixteenth Chair's lips as blood shot like a geyser out of his newly-formed stump. Moving the foot that held the giant man's arm down, Blue gave a small kick to Jericho's lifeless hand, sending it skipping across the ground.

_Bloody hell!_ Immediately, Gero began dragging his body away from Blue. He had to get back to his computer; he kept a weapon there in the event he needed to defend himself. It was foolish of him not to keep such a device on his person in the event something like this happened. Considering how many people he had angered over the years, it should have been obvious he needed to take that countermeasure.

"Not so fast, Gero." The old man froze upon hearing that. Slowly, he edged his head around to look back at Blue. The blond man was now looking right at him and for a moment, Gero swore his blue eyes glowed. It must have been the lighting or something because there was no way a man's eyes should have—

Suddenly, Gero felt his body freeze up. Stunned for a moment, he began trying to move his arms, legs, head, anything that could be moved. Every attempt was met with failure though, and slowly a sense of panic began to flood his body.

Frightfully, Gero watched as Blue moved away from Jericho and walked right up to him, the clapping of his boots against the lab floor creating an ominous atmosphere. Gero was absolutely positive that his eyes were filled with fear.

"So how does it feel?" Blue asked nonchalantly. "Oh, I forgot, you can't answer me. You're entire body is paralyzed. Right now you're probably wondering what is going on, how is it you cannot move. You know I haven't administered some toxin or paralyzing agent. There's no way I could have poisoned the air either because then I and the Sixteenth Chair would also be frozen. So what is it? _What is it?_"

A new emotion began to fill Gero then: anger. Anger that this sniveling worm was taunting him, withholding information that he clearly knew. Every part of his being wanted to demand what Blue knew, but unfortunately his jaw was locked shut. However, he knew the Third Chair must have done something.

Blue tilted his head back and let out a hearty laugh. "For a man of the sciences, you would never understand. It's just simply beyond your comprehension. But I'll tell you anyway." Slowly, the blond man kneeled down next to Gero, the younger man's face coming close to his wrinkled ear. Blue then whispered "It's a spell."

If Gero could have, he would have widened his eyes at that. Obviously that action didn't happen, but now instead of fear reflecting from his eyes, it was pure rage. _A spell? Magic? How _dare_ that man mock him! How dare he!_

Standing back up, Blue straightened out his posture before aiming his gun down at Gero. A haughty smirk was on his face as he said "Take that as my parting gift on your way to Hell."

Time slowed for Gero. His eyes focused right on the barrel on the gun, knowing that his fate rested on the bullet that would be exploding out of it any second now. It couldn't end this way. He wasn't supposed to die, not like this! There were still so many things he needed to do; necessary things that would change the course of history. He was the man that was supposed to be responsible for that change, he needed to be!

He needed to be that man and not the one lying on the floor, unable to move as a gloating adversary took his time in ending a life. And with the pull of the trigger, Blue fired his weapon.

_Click!_

A frown appeared on the man's face. "Empty already?" he questioned in disbelief as he raised the gun to look at it. The next thing either man knew, a white hand suddenly burst through his chest, a light spray of blood flying out as more trickled over the hand.

Immediately, Gero felt his body relax, allowing him to let out his breath, one that he hadn't been aware he had been holding. Shifting his body, he moved to look behind Blue, finding the still form of Nineteen standing behind the Third Chair, one of his arms raised and disappearing into the blond man's back.

"Your timing's impeccable, Nineteen," Gero greeted him, a look of relief appearing on his face.

Blue let out a gasp of pain as blood began to trickle out from the corners of his mouth and down his chin. His eyes shown with agony as his body shuddered every few seconds. "Wha…how…" he managed to gasp out before he went limp, his arms falling to his sides.

Gazing at the blond man, Nineteen lowered his arm down, allowing the dead man to slide off and fall to the floor with a thud. "You are injured, Dr. Gero," he said in his mechanical voice.

"Indeed. Help me up." On command, Nineteen moved next to the old man and helped him to stand up. Gero felt the pudgy man's arm wrap around his waist as he put his arm on his assistance shoulders. "Take me to the Sixteenth Chair," he ordered.

Silently, Nineteen led him to the fallen man's body, finding him still conscious, but clutching his injured hand. "Allow me to apologize for this incident," Gero said diplomatically.

"I…I don't understand," Jericho replied. "How could he do such a thing?"

"Your guess is as good as mine. Apparently the Third Chair felt some rather strong negative emotions towards me that required extreme actions."

Jericho shifted his eyes away from Gero and Nineteen. "He always seemed like a sensible man. How could I have misjudged him so?"

"We all can't be right about another person. To always be right would make us perfect and perfection simply does not exist."

The corner of the Sixteenth Chair's mouth twitched up. "A proper sentiment for a scientist."

"Again, I apologize. Please, allow me to fix your hand. It is the least I can do."

The giant man looked to his hurt hand and stared at it for a moment. "This will take a while to heal. Who knows what damage was done."

Looking to the bloody hand, a moment of inspiration suddenly struck Gero. "You know, I have been researching cybernetic prosthetics. If you wish, I could give you a brand new hand—two of them if you so wish."

Jericho's head tilted towards the old man. "What kind of hands?"

* * *

The ship shook with a jolt, courtesy of the spacecraft attaching itself to another. They had been receiving a distress beacon for the better part of a day and they had only just made contact with its source.

The ship looked to be in decent shape. Aside from a few dents here and there, there was no reason it needed to be sending out such a signal. That was when several Saiyan guards were deployed, standing at the entrance of the ship's airlock. Even as they waited, the ships were sealing themselves shut, docking with each other and creating a stable environment between the ships.

Patiently, Lieutenant Aize waited for the airlock doors to open. Under order of the ship's captain, Cardate, he was to welcome who ever the passengers of the distressed ship were. In the event of a hostile action, he was to crush it without prejudice. Personally, Aize preferred the second option. Being cooped up in a ship with little excitement was beginning to fray his nerves—though you would've been hard pressed to find a Saiyan that thought otherwise.

Normally, the second option went without being said, but apparently someone from the communications room had picked up a signal, one from a Saiyan origin point. Aize hadn't been told what else was in the communiqué, but the Captain had been on high alert ever since.

Once the connection between the airlocks was finalized, the doors opened, creating a dark opening into the other ship. The first thing that struck Aize was that there weren't any lights shinning from the other ship. With a frown, he and his unit waited for someone to make themselves known. Yet…no one did.

After a couple of minutes had passed, Aize turned his head to a side. "Check out the ship," he ordered to the two Saiyans standing there. Without another word, the two marched to and through the airlock, disappearing into the other ship. Automatically, the Saiyans still with Aize activated their scouters, keeping an eye on their two comrades.

Since he didn't have a scouter on, Aize was content with the others following protocol. It was due to that, however, that he was caught unaware when one of his privates announced. "I'm detecting only one other power level on that ship."

Aize's frown deepened. "Only one?" he demanded for confirmation. Upon seeing the soldier nod his head, the lieutenant began glaring into the other ship, daring it to surprise him further.

It was several minutes before his scouting party reappeared, a wounded Saiyan being carried between them. The man's head hung down, so Aize couldn't get a good look at him. With his arms wrapped around the other two Saiyan's shoulders, it was obvious he was too weak to stand on his own. Parts of his armor were broken off, dried blood outlining the edges of the broken armor. He had seen better days, that was for sure.

"Who's this?" Aize asked, nodding his head to the injured Saiyan.

One of the supporting Saiyan's shook his head. "We have no idea. We found him in the ship's bridge and he was barely conscious. He put up a little resistance when we tried to move him though, at least until we picked up this."

At that, the other Saiyan raised what appeared to be some sort of rifle. Having no idea what it was, Aize raised an eyebrow at his men before saying "And what was supposed to be so important about it? What is it?"

That was when the weak Saiyan stirred. As unintelligible mumblings left his lips, his head slowly and feebly raised up, revealing a man with a red headband and a scar on his check.

"Soldier," Aize said loudly, getting the Saiyan's attention. "Name and rank."

The Saiyan stared at him with half-lidded eyes before he murmured something out. "Say again," Aize ordered.

"Bardock," the Saiyan finally managed to say clearly, yet softly. "Captain."

"And what are you doing on that ship, Captain? Where are you stationed?"

There was a small silence before the captain grunted out "Onius."

"Answer my question, Captain." This guy was really getting on his nerves.

The Saiyan seemed to be getting some of his strength back, fortunately, as he removed one of his arms from the supporting Saiyan next to him. "We're…we're in danger," Bardock grunted out.

"Danger?" Aize scoffed. "From what?"

Bardock pointed at the weapon in his former supporting Saiyan's hand. "That…"

Aize glared right at the Saiyan. "You must be joking," he said. Seriously, some gun was a threat to a Saiyan warrior? Who did this guy think he was? Although injured, the guy must've done it to himself so as to look thrashed. "You better start making sense Captain before I have you court marshaled."

Bardock stared at him before he growled. Suddenly, he lunged for the rifle, ripping it out of the Saiyan's hand. Although he didn't have much strength in him, he managed to raise the barrel of the gun somewhat and pulled the trigger. A bright beam fired out and hit Aize right in the foot.

Searing pain exploded in Aize's foot, shooting up his leg as he screamed. Falling to the floor, he gripped his lower leg, his eyes focusing on his damaged foot, only to find that most of it was missing. Horror began mixing with the pain the Saiyan was feeling, immediately followed by rage. "You bastard!" he roared. "You're dead, do you hear me? Dead!"

Looking away from his injury, Aize was satisfied to see that the asshole captain had been shoved to the floor, three Saiyan's holding him down, one of which was driving his elbow uncomfortable into the captain's ribs. The weapon had been successfully recovered by one of the privates.

"What the bloody hell is going on here?" a new voice shouted, immediately causing everyone in the room to look. Storming in was Captain Cordate and he looked none too pleased at what he saw. However, he soon became transfixed on Aize's missing foot and stared.

A moment later and Cordate demanded "Someone answer me, what is going on here?"

Seizing the opportunity, Aize spoke "That bastard on the floor shot me. He shot me!"

Cordate looked to Aize. "With what?"

"With some strange gun. Look at me! Look at what he did to my foot!"

The ship's captain turned his head from Aize to the gun and then finally to the Saiyan being restrained on the floor. "What's the meaning of this assault, Private?"

If Bardock was insulted by the being called the wrong rank, he didn't show it, much to Aize's disappointment. Cordate had a history of demoting people who argued their ranks with him. Instead, the Saiyan only made wheezing sounds before he spat out "Onius."

Upon hearing that word, Cordate froze. "You…you came from Onius?" Shifting his look to the Saiyans on top of Bardock, he ordered "Get off of him! Now!"

Immediately, the Saiyans got off, Cordate kneeling down next to the injured Saiyan, much to Aize's confusion. What was so special about Onius? "Tell me everything. What happened there?"

"Overrun…" Bardock gasped out. "Ambushed…picked us off…every last….one of us…" With a hand, he pointed towards the gun.

Cordate looked to the gun and back to Bardock. "With those guns?" He was answered with a slight nod.

It was then that Aize saw something. Beneath Bardock, something was emerging. If he wasn't mistaken, that looked like…like blood. "Who did this to you? Who attacked Onius?" Cordate asked.

The injured Saiyan seemed to be struggling with himself then. His breathing was getting harsher. "Earth…Earthlings."

Cordate looked as if he wanted to keep asking more, but he noticed the growing pool of blood beneath the Saiyan. "Don't worry, Son, we'll get you to a healing tank. You'll be just—"

Suddenly, Bardock lashed out with one of his hands, grabbing the Captain by the collar of his armor and pulled him down. "Warn them," he all by demanded. "_Warn them._"

And then the Saiyan's breath slowed, his grip on Cordate weakening. His arm fell to the floor with a thud, the haggard sound of his breathing falling silent.

* * *

The light of the monitor glowed throughout the room.

"And you're positive about this?"

"Yes, milord," the image of Captain Cardate answered. "My crew searched the ship. He was the only survivor. We found a few dead bodies, a couple of which were identified as Earthlings."

"And the resource satellite is in the Earthlings' control?"

"That was what was reported to me. The survivor died shortly after informing me from injuries sustained on the satellite. All wounds were made by the same type of weapon, which I've never seen before."

A small silence passed. "You say this weapon can injure Saiyans?"

"It was used on my lieutenant, milord. It burned off most of his foot. The same wound patterns matched the ones on the survivor."

Another silence. "Return to Vegeta, Captain. Further orders will await you there."

"Sir," Cordate replied before the screen went blank.

Leaning back in his seat, King Vegeta stroked his beard. Looking to a sheet of paper next to the monitor, he mentally acknowledged it as the last communiqué that had been sent from Onius. So the Earthlings wanted to play, was it? Fine, they would play.

"General Nappa," he bellowed. A moment passed before the door to his chamber opened, the large, hulking form of the general appearing in the door way. "Prepare the armada!" King Vegeta ordered. "I want every last man and woman summoned for military service."

Nappa immediately bowed. "Yes, milord."

Standing up from his chair, the king walked towards the general and past him, the Saiyan moving out of his way as he did so.

"The Saiyans are going to war."

* * *

I have to say, I was a bit surprised by the reception of this story—namely the low turnout. I half-expect it has something to do with it being listed as Bardock/Gero and the fact that most people on the site view that setting as some sort of romantic couple. Still, I am proud to have the first and only Bardock/Gero story on the site lol.

But with that said, Part I is finished. Work on the second one is going to be delayed due to my partner-in-crime, Ms. Videl Son, and I coming up with a new project. That also, incidentally, pushes back work on Disastrous Space Adventures, but I'm pretty excited by the idea. I'm sure y'all will be too.

Anyways, it's been nice getting back to this old series. The hit-and-run battle scenes towards the end were a bit dull though, but I highly expect much better ones to show up in Part II. War's coming after all. I even have a name for it: Bitter Parabellum.

Until next time,

ShadowMajin


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